


Gaining Your Love

by yutorin



Series: The Heisei Kumi [4]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Baking, Chick Flicks as Romance advice, Dream Symbolism, Getting Together, Gun Violence, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Originally posted in 2011, Other than that it's relatively tame, Past Child Abuse, So I was like fifteen, Teen Romance, Thunderstorms, murder happens, rooftop confessions, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 14:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: Long before the Heisei Kumi knew Keito, Daiki makes it his mission to make the stunning Yamada Ryosuke fall in love with him, and it's going to be much harder than Daiki expected.





	1. Chapter 1

Years before Keito Okamoto joined the Kitagawa Yakuza Group Johnny Kitagawa was still alive and the Heisei Kumi only had nine boys living in their main house. Arioka Daiki was only sixteen, yet he had earned the nickname 'The Dragon' due to his violent ruthlessness, strength, and the fierce tattoo he'd had on his back since the mere age of nine, and had made himself one of the toughest members of the Heisei Kumi, granting him a place in the Kumi-cho's home. He shared a room with his best friend, Inoo Kei, and spent his days swindling girls, beating up people that frustrated him, and playing cards with the other Kumi members. Daiki was usually a simple minded person, but today he found himself outside the door to Yamada and Ryutaro's bedroom, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He put his ear to the door, listening to the quiet sobs in the other room. Why was Yamada crying? Daiki was about to go in when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around. Ryutaro gave him a look, shaking his head. _No._

"It's nothing. He got a tattoo today. You know how much tebori hurts. Just give him time." The younger boy whispered, and Daiki nodded, walking downstairs and flopping on the couch. He was annoyed now. He knew he should leave Yamada alone, but the littler boy was hurting, and something weird in his heart made him want to be in there with him. That feeling had been revealing itself recently, and it was annoying the hell out of him.

"Dinner!" Inoo called, peeking his head around the doorway. Daiki looked up, nodding and standing up, pushing that unnamed feeling to the back of his chest. He wouldn't think about it anymore. Yamada was the last to join them at the dinner table, his face held no sign that he was in pain, but he favored his right arm, clumsily using his left hand to hold his chopsticks. No one commented, although Yuto took pity on his friend, occasionally feeding him himself. Another feeling flared up in Daiki's chest as he watched Yamada smile gratefully at Yuto when the boy put his chopsticks to Yamada's lips. This one he knew. Jealousy. It was burning and writhing inside of him, and he hated the way Yuto was so nonchalantly able to make everything better in Yamada's world. He cursed himself. He was unreasonable. He sat in silence, his stomach boiling as he tried—and failed—to ignore Yamada and Yuto. Once dinner was over he planned to escape to the room he shared with Inoo, but was stopped by a tentative

"Arioka-kun..." It was Yamada, his face set.

"Yeah?"

"Can you help me with something? Come..." The younger boy led him to the bathroom, gently taking off his oversized hoodie and locking the door once they got there. Fresh on Yamada's bicep was the new tattoo, a band of sakura, the branch wrapping itself around his arm, the delicate flowers beautiful against his skin. It was rather surprising that Yamada had gotten a tattoo—he was only...how old again? Fourteen, right?

"I...I got this for Yuto-kun...it's a surprise, and I want to take care of it...and you have one, so I was hoping you could help..." Yamada explained, looking nervous. Daiki nodded, and he washed his hands, lathering them with soap and gently washing where Yamada's new tattoo was stark against the pale creamy skin, remembering just how tender he had been after each of his tattooing sessions; his dragon had been completed in multiple two hour sessions, and after each it hurt to move at all, his back screaming at him for the torture he was putting it through. But he was tough.

Once that was finished he applied an antibiotic cream, rubbing it into the skin to keep infection away, his eyes trailing to Yamada's face; the warm brown eyes...the chubby red cheeks...the soft pink lips...

"Ne Yamada, can we kiss?" The words were out before he even realized he had thought them. Yamada's reaction was immediate, he jerked away, sending Daiki a look of pure terror, and crashing into the door, his hands already fiddling with the knob as his eyes filled with panicked tears. With one last awful glance Yamada shoved the door open, and was gone. What the hell had he just done? Kiss; really? And now Yamada thought...what had he been thinking?! Suddenly, Yuto was there, and then a moment later the younger boy’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling into the sink, hitting the counter painfully. Yuto grabbed him by the collar, threatening.

"You really scared him you fucking bastard; what the hell?!" Yuto stared at him for a moment, searching his face for an answer. Realizing that Daiki didn't have one he let go, forcing Daiki's back into the countertop and storming out, anger rolling off of his thin body in waves.

"Now, let me get this straight...you asked Yamada if you could kiss?!" It was late in the night, and Daiki and Inoo were sitting up in bed in their room talking, like they usually did. Daiki had just finished recounting how he had gotten the lovely bruise on his jaw line, and Inoo wasn't quite believing the story.

"Yeah; how many times do I have to tell you? I said Can we kiss? and then he freaked out and left; then Yuto stormed in, punched me, yelled and left."

"Wow...you....I mean..." Inoo fell into silence for a second.

"Why didn't you tell me you liked Yamada?"

"WHAT?!" Daiki shot up from where he had been laying in bed, eyes wide. Inoo sent him a slightly hurt, completely confused glance.

"I like Yamada?!" Daiki asked, surprised. Inoo whacked himself in the forehead, sighing.

"Oh my goodness Arioka Daiki. If you want to kiss someone then yes; you probably like them. Dumb-ass."

Daiki threw himself on his bed, moaning a bit. He only allowed himself to relax like this when he was with Inoo; the older boy was his most important companion, and the only person he had ever picked as a friend, although the other boys in the house were important now, he simply couldn't trust them like he trusted Inoo.

"Now what do I do?" He asked. He'd never liked anyone before. Inoo reached over and whacked him gently on the head, giggling.

"You do shit to make him like you back!"

"Like what?" Daiki didn't really talk with Yamada. Well, he did, but not about anything deep. They didn't hang out just the two of them or anything.

"Well for starters, you could apologize."

"No. I don't apologize; ever." Inoo snorted.

"True. You never apologized for the shit you put me through." Daiki sent his friend a look.

"Goodnight, Dai-chan." Inoo announced, giving Daiki a small hug and crawling into his bed, snuggling into the pillow and shutting his eyes. Daiki too rolled into bed, muttering his own goodnight before falling asleep. He'd think about what to do about his situation with Yamada tomorrow.

That was all he managed to think about once tomorrow arrived. He couldn't concentrate at all during the day, not even during a date with the girl he was swindling, or during his chess match with Takaki, which he managed to lose brilliantly, to everyone's shock. He rarely lost when it came to chess. All he thought about was the conversation with Inoo.

"I like Yamada?! That had been a fact that-now acknowledged, threw itself in his face every time the younger boy walked into the room, in all of his beauty.

"Now what do I do?"

"Well for starters, you could apologize."

"ARGH!" Daiki yelled in frustration, startling Yabu and Takaki whom were in the room. He didn't notice, storming out of the house, and finding Yamada, who was practicing sword fighting in the alley.

"A-Arioka-kun...?" Yamada asked, surprised and nervous. Daiki just stood there silent for a second, building up his nerves.

"I'm sorry!" The words felt weird on his tongue, but he meant them; he was sorry for scaring Yamada the way he had. He bowed, and rushed back in the house, not looking in Yamada's eyes, heart pounding in his ears. He rushed up to his room, startling Inoo, who had been reading on his bed.

"There. I freaking did it." That caught Inoo's attention.

"You apologized?!" His friend asked, sitting up and putting his book aside. Daiki nodded.

"So you're serious about this, huh?" Butterflies erupted in his stomach, but he nodded. He would make Yamada love him. He had decided.

"Dinner!" Yabu's yell rang up the staircase, and they both hurried to the table, dropping their conversation. After dinner they had a mass card game with the nine of them, Hikaru winning in the end.

"Okay, I'm going to bed." Yamada declared, standing up and putting his cards down. Daiki stood up too, flashing Yamada a smile.

"Goodnight Yamada." He said, attempting to give the younger boy a hug. Yamada shoved him away, taking a step back before climbing the stairs two at a time and disappearing into his room. A hollow feeling filled his chest, leaving Daiki feeling empty and cold. Damn it.

This pattern happened regularly for the rest of the week, Daiki getting more and more frustrated with himself every time he was pushed away.

"What the hell am I doing wrong?!" He asked himself desperately one night, at a loss. To his surprise, he got an answer.

"Try doing something for him instead of forcing yourself on him all the time. He probably thinks you just wanna get in his pants." Ryutaro suggested, sitting down on the couch next to Daiki and giving him a look.

"Like what?"

"C'mon, you can think of something. Something only you can do." Daiki thought. And he thought. And he finally managed to think of something.

"Yamada, I'm gonna teach you how to play chess!" He declared the next day, and Yamada turned to look at him, confused.

"Why?" Daiki's confidence immediately faltered.

"It seems like a good thing to know, don't you think? You might even have fun..." He tried to promote his services. Yamada thought about it for a second, before nodding.

"Okay, Arioka-kun. I'll try my best!" Yes. Daiki led him to the living room, where he had set up his chess board and they sat on either end, Yamada examining the pieces carefully. He was so beautiful when he was focusing seriously on something.

"The object of the game is to get the other players King. If you get the King you win. Okay?" Yamada nodded in understanding.

"Okay, this is the rook..." Daiki began, picking up each piece and telling the younger boy what they were called and how they moved. Yamada listened intently and asked questions, and once Daiki was done explaining he repeated it all back to the older boy. Whatever he had messed up on was reexamined, and in that manner they completed the lesson of the day.

"Tomorrow we'll actually begin to play, okay?" Daiki offered, and Yamada nodded. Daiki smiled his best smile as Yamada walked away. This was perfect! He had his excuse to be with Yamada every day, and Yamada wasn't giving him looks of fear or rejecting him in any way.

The next days were a continuation of the lesson before, Daiki trying his best to make sure Yamada enjoyed it, not being too serious and staying as patient as possible. Then, one day the unthinkable happened.

Daiki's eyes widened as he searched the chess board. How had this...?! Wait, this couldn't be right. No there was a way out of this he could—

"Checkmate." Yamada announced, his voice barely veiling his excitement as he took Daiki's king, holding it in his hand with a sly smile.

Daiki sat there for a second, comprehending. It had only been two weeks since he had begun their lessons. Only two weeks, and Yamada was this good already?

"Well, I guess you don't need these lessons anymore." He muttered. Yamada smiled.

"Thank you for teaching me, Arioka-kun."

"Can we...be friends, at least?" Daiki asked, offering Yamada his hand.

"You were always my friend, Arioka-kun." Yamada said with a smile, taking it tentatively and shaking it, making Daiki break out in a huge grin, his heart light.

"I won." Yamada announced at dinner that night. "I beat Arioka-kun at chess." Everyone gave him shocked looks, but Daiki didn't care. He was too happy. Yamada considers me a friend.

That night Inoo pestered him into telling him all of the details, a little grin on his face.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked. Daiki grinned, a happy little fluffiness in his stomach.

The fluffiness was gone the next day when Ryutaro and Yuto burst into the house, out of breath and shaking, wild looks in their eyes. Everyone in the room stood up, shocked by the suddenness and the boys expressions.

"Ryu?!" Chinen's eyes searched the younger boys face, confused and scared.

"K-Kumi-cho..." Ryutaro mumbled, breathing heavy. "...The....the Wakaba. We managed to outrun them...but...it was close. They wanted...a fight." Yuto and Ryutaro recounted the story through their heavy breathing, Yamada getting the both of them cups of water, the two boys gulping it down, ravenous. As Daiki listened he felt himself growing angry. Those Wakaba bastards were demons from hell.

"The Wakaba want a fight huh?" Chinen said almost to himself, the little Kumi-cho submersed in thought.

"I'm calling a meeting in...two hours. Inform the others. Everyone had better be here."

Chinen retreated to his office, not emerging until his designated meeting was about to start; he himself the last one to arrive.

"The Wakaba want a fight; and we're going to give them one." He announced, once the meeting had started. Daiki nodded. He'd been expecting something along those lines.

"So, in a month we attack. Until then we're going to train—a lot. I'm not having any crazy accidents, like before. Understand?"

Eight "Yes, Kumi-cho."'s echoed throughout the room, and Chinen smiled his cute smile.

"Good."


	2. Chapter 2

That night during dinner the only topic was the raid; fighting techniques and plans of strategy. Everyone was nervous; they hadn't had any trouble with the Wakaba in a long time. It would be their first attack with Chinen as Kumi-cho.

"Alright, everyone pair up." Chinen announced the next day, when they all gathered in the alley after breakfast for their first group training. Daiki searched for Inoo, his friend coming up behind him and picking him up in a hug, a smile in his voice.

"You're with me, buddy."

"What do we do....?" Daiki asked, looking around. Inoo too scoured the alley, and they both came to the same conclusion.

"We fight."

With a smirk, Daiki lunged at Inoo, aiming for his face, almost teasing. With a mirroring smirk Inoo dodged, ducking low, aiming his own kick at Daiki's chest. Daiki jumped out of the way, and a curse rang through the alley, causing everyone to turn and stare. It had been Yabu, who was now nursing a bloody lip, the older boy looking furious. Ryutaro, who had been his sparring partner, was looking worried, eyes searching Yabu's face.

"Let's....not try to actually kill each other, okay? The point of this is to get stronger." Hikaru suggested. Everyone nodded. Hikaru's attention immediately went to Yabu.

"You okay Yabuchii? Let me see..." He was saying as Daiki and Inoo turned their attention back to each other.

"Well then....no killing, Dai-chan. I know that'll be difficult." Inoo said in a singsong voice. Daiki rolled his eyes.

"I can be gentle too, ya know."_ Can I?_ Even as the words left his mouth he wasn't so sure. He had never even considered how to hold back in a fight. From the first time he had ever punched someone it had always been a 'kill or be killed' in his mentality. Inoo knew this.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." His friend challenged. Daiki strengthened his resolve. He just had to believe that he could be gentle.....right? It was worth a shot. Daiki tried to hold back; tried to make his punches not so sharp, not so fast, not so....mean. It was hard. So hard. He wanted to take that finishing blow so badly....and next thing he knew, Inoo was on the ground, and he was standing over him. Oops. Inoo groaned, and Daiki leaned down, offering him a hand and pulling him back to his feet. Inoo's eye began swelling up, and they both knew that it would be a nice shade of purple by dinnertime. Daiki looked over him, worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Inoo said, reading his mind. Daiki nodded, knowing he was forgiven.

"Let’s take a break." They sat down next to each other, backs against the outer wall of one of the buildings, watching as their housemates fought their own mini battles. Daiki found his eyes drawn to where Yamada and Hikaru were going at it. Hikaru looked huge and menacing next to the littler boy, despite Yamada's katana. Daiki watched Yamada's quick movements; the look of concentration on his face. He was graceful, everything flowing together like a dance. It was captivating—Daiki watched him with baited breath. Yamada, in all of his grace, seemed almost fragile, like glass. It was almost distressing to watch him fight; Daiki found himself wishing that Yamada would never have to fight again, and once Yamada and Hikaru took their own break he stood up, walking over and examining the boy for injuries.

"You....are you okay?" He asked carefully. Wiping the sweat off of his chin, Yamada nodded. Daiki let out the breath he had been holding, a warm feeling rushing through him, and he bit his lip, trying to hide how much he actually cared about his question. Standing behind him, Inoo giggled a bit, whispering so that only Daiki could hear.

"So,_ now_ you're gentle, Dai-chan? Ryosuke sure does seem to be bringing out the best in you." Daiki turned around suddenly, knowing that Inoo wasn't expecting it, and slugged him in the arm.

"Shut up, Kei-chan." He muttered. Inoo winced, but didn't retaliate, save for one of his best 'You know I'm right.' smirks.

From then on in the days that followed Daiki always had an eye on Yamada, watching to be sure he wouldn't get hurt. Whenever the younger boy did get a cut or a bruise he would worry, forcing Yamada to let him look at it and assess it. Yamada would always protest, not comfortable with the examinations. He offered to spar with Daiki, but Daiki refused, feeling sick at the thought of attacking him.

On one of the days after training and dinner they all sat around in the living room talking strategy. Everyone had ideas and input, and they talked well into the night, the younger ones one by one putting themselves to bed. Yamada stayed downstairs, trying to pay attention, but eventually he too dozed off, his head falling onto Daiki's shoulder gently. Surprised, Daiki glanced over at Yamada, smiling when he noticed that the younger one was fast asleep, his face peaceful. The poor kid must have been exhausted; he'd been working hard all day, and it was past his usual bedtime.

"I'm gonna put him to bed." Daiki announced, painstakingly repositioning Yamada and picking him up in his arms, holding him close to his body so that the younger boy wouldn't jostle. He felt Yamada's heart beating, smelled that scent of roses that always whispered whenever he was nearby, and he felt so calm, so happy. He was a third of the way up the stairs when Yuto's voice called

"Hey Yama-chan, I know you wanted to stay up and listen, but it's getting really—" Yuto turned to corner, appearing at the top of the stairs and cutting off his sentence just as Yamada's eyes blinked open. He looked around wildly, confused and scared for a minute, writhing in Daiki's arms. Oh shit— Daiki tried to put him down gently, but Yamada ended up falling onto the stairs, before clamoring up them, almost crawling, up past Yuto to the bedroom he shared with Ryutaro. Daiki went to follow him, to explain himself, but Yuto blocked his way, looking frustrated.

"I—I was just.....I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" Daiki tried to make Yuto understand. He hadn't thought that Yamada would know! He wasn't trying to "force himself" on Yamada or anything—

"You bastard! You_ know_ he doesn't like people—doesn't like_ you_ touching him, especially unexpectedly! You should know better than to pull a stunt like that! You—you're just making things worse. I've been trying to cure him; to make him not so damn scared. To help him. You're just getting in the fucking way...! Why can't you just....just LEAVE HIM THE HELL ALONE?!" Yuto's voice got steadily louder as he talked, and with it Daiki felt anger churning inside of him, all of the happiness that had been there moments before evaporated. He'd only been trying to help! He hadn't meant for Yamada to wake up! He had been careful. He had been gentle. He was just trying to do something for someone he cared about. Was that so bad?! He glared as Yuto talked, and he didn't want to hear anymore. He was about to sock the younger boy in the face when Hikaru jumped between them, giving them both glares that meant '_you had better drop it now or you're going to have _so much_ shit coming your way...'_ the threat was understood, and they both went their separate ways, Yuto disappearing into Yamada's bedroom. Daiki had to go past the door to get to his own room, and he couldn't help but hear Yuto talking gently with Yamada, comforting him. Jealousy flared up in the already furious fire in his chest, and he forced himself to his own bedroom, doing his best not to cuss or kick things, and he sat on his bed, waiting for the fury inside himself to die down.

After an immeasurable amount of time Inoo came in, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Hey." Daiki didn't respond.

"I heard what happened....you've gotta be more careful." His friend warned, sitting next to him on the bed. Daiki glanced at him. Was Inoo gonna give him this lecture too?

"I wouldn't be saying anything, except I happened to overhear Yamada and Yuto talking...and..."

"What? You _'happened to overhear'_ them?" Daiki asked, and Inoo blushed guiltily.

"Dai-chan, you know how bad I am about eavesdropping. That's how we first met, remember? Anyways, I was listening to them talk in Yamada and Ryutaro's room..." Daiki was all ears now. "...and you just made things harder on yourself. He was really upset for a while, crying and shit, but Yuto and Ryu calmed him down. Then...Yamada asked them what they thought of you. He said that he had really taken a liking to you before this," at this a little spark of happiness rose in Daiki's chest "but he doesn't seem to trust himself at all. He said something about 'not being able to pick good friends in the past' and asked them if he could trust you."

"And?" Daiki asked. Inoo sighed.

"And Ryutaro, who definitely hung out with the ex-Kumi-cho way too much, because his maturity is like, insanely huge by the way, Ryu said that that was something Yamada had to decide for himself. So basically, as of right now you have to earn his trust....I guess." Inoo finished, weakly. Daiki processed all of that in his head. Yamada didn't trust him. He had upset Yamada so much that he had cried all because he hadn't had the heart to wake him up. He had been so nice. He had worked so hard at not messing up...and now...

He felt a deep sinking through his chest, a stinging hurt at the back of his throat. His body felt heavy. What was wrong with him? He felt his face scrunching up, and a tear made a trail down his cheek, as his body shook. Despair, frustration, and unrequited love broke him down, and he cried. He didn't know when Inoo pulled him into the hug; all he knew was that he found himself sobbing on his friends shoulder, Inoo's voice gentle in his ear.

"Dai-chan, I know love can be hard...but listen to me. You're gonna have to decide just how much he means to you. If you truly love him then you'll put him first. You will be patient, and wait for as long as it takes. It's gonna be hard, but you've just got to decide that Yamada is worth it." Emotionally spent, he shut down, drifting off in the comfort of Inoo's arms.

_Everywhere he looked was solid white. Blank emptiness. It was a calming blankness, not unnerving as it could have been. He looked down at his hands. There, around his wrist was a red silk ribbon, the color of blood. It ran all the way down the floor, and as his eyes trailed it he followed it, picking it up and bundling it as he walked, his footsteps making no noise. Soon up ahead he caught sight of a huge sakura tree, its pink petals floating gently on a nonexistent breeze. He got closer, and as he did so the ribbon began to change color, the lengths of blood red now fading and dulling until it was a sad gray. His eyes followed the now gray ribbon until he became close enough to the tree to see a figure lying underneath the tree. As he walked he began to make out the persons features. Yamada. The boy was asleep, curled up at the base of the tree's trunk. Daiki's ribbon trailed along the ground to his wrist, where the gray end was wrapped tightly. He took a step into the shadow that the tree produced, and as though alerted of his presence Yamada's eyes blinked open._

_"What is this?" Daiki asked, gesturing to the ribbon as Yamada pulled himself to a sitting position. Yamada examined his own wrist, looking at the ribbon for a few moments before saying_

_"It's our bond."_

_Daiki was confused. Their bond? But...he didn't like the way it looked. He tried to go to Yamada, but as soon as he took the first step the branches of the sakura tree pulled themselves together, shielding the younger boy from him, the ribbon's length the only thing keeping them connected…_


	3. Chapter 3

He woke the next morning still feeling fatigued, as though he hadn't gained any rest from his time asleep. Blearily he walked to the bathroom, and was startled to see that his eyes were puffy from crying. He moaned and pouted a bit; he didn't need everyone knowing he had cried—it was embarrassing. He splashed water on his face, attempting to wake himself up, and meandered downstairs to find food. The only others in the kitchen were Yamada and Yuto, everyone else out already. Daiki checked the clock; 10:37 wow. He'd slept in late. He thought about all of this, trying to distract himself from the sensations going on in his stomach; the squeezing feeling that was both light and heavy at the same time, and the rapid beating of his heart. He thought, and tried to avoid, and not avoid what he knew he was going to do. Going to say. He let his eyes trace over Yamada's face, noticing similar puffy eyes, the younger boy sitting quietly next to Yuto at the table, not looking in Daiki's direction. Eventually it built up until it spilled over, and he vowed

"I won't let you get hurt anymore." Both Yamada and Yuto jerked their heads up, looking at him in bewilderment. He searched Yamada's face, scrunching up his eyebrows like he did whenever he was serious and nervous about something he was going to say.

"I won't hurt you anymore." He continued, and Yuto sent him a look that said What the hell are you doing?!

"I'm gonna leave you alone...and let you approach me if you want to hang out with me; that way....I won't mess up anymore. Okay?" The last word was uttered weakly, and after staring at him for a few moments, Yamada nodded a small nod, and Daiki sent him his most gentle smile, standing up and walking out of the room, leaving a chunk of his nervousness behind.

In the weeks that followed, Daiki practically ignored Yamada, barely even acknowledging the boys presence...when Yamada was looking. He couldn't help but stare once in a while. Three times a week or so Yamada would ask to play chess or cards, and Daiki would always agree, trying not to seem too excited, careful to never touch Yamada during their games. One of these nights when they were playing, Yamada, who had been in the middle of a story about something he and Yuto had done earlier that day, froze, listening. Daiki listened too, but didn't hear anything.

"It's raining." Once Yamada had pointed it out, he noticed the barely audible sounds of the raindrops on the roof, their sound a gentle one. He nodded.

"Yup. Takaki said we were supposed to get a thunderstorm soon. Why'd you bring it up?" Yamada glanced up at the ceiling nervously, as though it was going to cave in.

"Oh, no reason..." He mumbled, moving his pawn, taking out one of Daiki's knights, bringing Daiki's focus back to the game.

Daiki forgot all about the little talk they'd had about the weather until the next morning, when Yamada came downstairs looking gloomy, with dark circles under his eyes.

"What happened?" He asked Ryutaro, who looked at him like he was talking in German for a second, before compression lit his eyes.

"Oh, you mean Yama-chan? He's always like that after a storm. He doesn't mind the rain, but thunder terrifies him. He always hides in the closet. I usually try to console him but....I slept through the whole thing..." Daiki's focus returned to Yamada, concerned. He continued to watch the younger boy through the rest of the day, until around three o'clock, when he simply had to say something.

"Why don't you go take a nap?" He suggested. Yamada had been trying to play a game of cards; he had a winning hand, and hadn't even realized it. It was sad. Yamada shook his head mildly, but Daiki persisted.

"You just need to sleep for a few more hours. Besides, we have the raid at the end of the week. You need your sleep....c'mon Ryosu—Yamada." Eventually he managed to convince Yamada to go to bed, promising to wake the younger boy up for dinner; a promise he wouldn't keep. Yamada needed the sleep. Even Chinen said to just let him be. Due to this Yamada was found in the kitchen a little past ten that night, searching the fridge for leftovers, bleary eyed.

"We ate it all." Daiki confessed, and Yamada nodded, looking slightly dejected.

"But I'll make you some Miso soup, okay?" Daiki offered. He had been about to go to bed, his pajamas (which consisted of nothing but a pair of lose basketball shorts) already on. But Yamada looked so cute, and he wanted to do something for him. He quickly got to work, and soon there was a bowl of the traditional soup sitting in front of the younger boy, steam billowing out into the air in puffs. Yamada smiled at the sight of it.

"Eat with me?" Daiki nodded, getting himself his own bowl and sitting across the table from Yamada. They ate in silence, it only broken when Yamada said quietly

"Arioka-kun, you have..." The younger boy leaned forward, wiping off a droplet of soup from Daiki's cheek, his finger barely touching Daiki's bottom lip, lingering for a heartbeat, before he pulled back, sitting back down. Daiki grinned, the happiness ballooning inside of his chest, and he knew he must look like a fool as he sat there, staring into his soup, but he didn't care. Yamada had_ touched him of his own accord._ His idea was working; he was managing it—building Yamada's trust. His determination grew; he would win Yamada's heart. Become someone worthy of it.

The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of preparations for the raid, and before Daiki knew it twilight was knocking on the door, and they were getting ready to leave.

"You nervous?" Yamada asked him, straightening his tie and slinging the strap attached to his katana's sheath over his chest. Daiki shook his head. He wasn't. He knew that he would be fine. He just had to beat up some guys; that was his specialty.

"Are you nervous?" Daiki asked, and Yamada attempted a smile, the result a queasy smirk. Daiki frowned.

"Don't worry. I won't let you get hurt." He said, almost reaching out to pat Yamada's head, but pulling his hand back at the last minute, apologizing. Yamada looked at him, almost wondrous for a minute, and Daiki wanted to lean forward and kiss him so badly...Daiki left the room, biting his bottom lip between his teeth, willing the feeling inside of him to die down. He took a deep breath, and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand; casting off the newfound gentleness blooming from a previously unused corner of his heart and returning to the self he had become long ago; brutal, focused, and cold. He didn't need his heart for his job tonight. For the first time he found that he couldn't immerse himself in it as completely as he had in the past. Now his front had a gap in it; a weakness. He had something to protect now. Something precious.

"C'mon, we're heading out." Takaki announced, and they all grabbed their weapon of choice and filed put the door. Twenty minutes later, by the light of the moon they arrived at their destination; the set of warehouses that the Wakaba called home. Daiki took the lead, bursting in through the main door, letting out a beastly roar as he did so, knocking out two boys right off the bat, their bodies crumpling to the ground. Numb, he continued on, fighting the faceless enemies and making his way through the concrete jungle until he was at the heart of the place, no other companions in sight. Through the blur of unfamiliar bodies and bloody punches a voice caught his attention. An unfamiliar voice calling out an all too familiar name.

"Ryosuke! Come see me." Daiki felt a chill roll down his spine, and he glanced over, surprised to see Yamada at the entrance to the space he was in, the younger boy fighting off three attackers, spinning and slashing deftly, concentrating; yet there was an underlying tension in his movements, one that the boy who had spoken seemed to be feeding. That boy needed to be disposed of. Daiki crept up on the duel, tackling the younger kid, the one Yamada had seemed so afraid of, and elbowing him in the face, kicking him in the stomach and slugging him as he sunk to the ground; a complete victory. Yamada meanwhile had been slowly backed into a corner by his other two attackers, his back now pressed against the wall, trying to ward them off, frustrated tears rolling down his cheeks, an awful almost resigned look beginning to flush onto his face, and Daiki could sense the despair. The frustration. Just as Yamada aimed a slash at one of the other boys stomachs Daiki chose to jump in, kicking the boys legs out from under him, Yamada's katana ripping through his right side, blood seeping onto his suit. Daiki crouched down, knocking the other boy unconscious; attempting to ignore the stinging burning feeling that was threatening to split him in two. Yamada was shaking, eyes wide.

"I'm sorry!" Yamada yelled, but Daiki didn't respond, grabbing another boy in a headlock and ramming him against the concrete wall a couple of times before letting his limp form join his companions.

"Why'd you?! Why—I....you got yourself hurt! And..." Daiki fought to stay on his feet, as he began to feel dizzy and lightheaded, the blood staining his clothes expanding in an ominous blotch.

"I told you didn't I?! I wouldn't let you get hurt. I'm just keeping my promise. I'm gonna protect you. No matter what." Daiki fought to sound strong, realizing that he needed medical attention, knowing he wouldn't manage to keep his consciousness for much longer. Yamada stared at him, eyes wide, amazed, and they stood still, taking each other in, until a yell announcing a retreat shattered the moment, and they headed for an exit; Daiki managing to make it to their designated meeting spot, and even managing to wave to Hikaru, before collapsing, blackness creeping at the edges of his vision. Yamada wasn't yelling, but his voice was forceful, muttering his name over and over, apologizing and willing him to hold on.

"We're almost there, Arioka-kun. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Takaki was carrying him on his back, and they raced back to the house, a hand pressing against Daiki's sliced flesh, putting pressure on it, trying to stop the bleeding. He had long since closed his eyes, shallowing his breathing, attempting to focus on his surroundings through sound. He heard the door open, and a flurry of orders from both Hikaru and Chinen's mouths, Chinen explaining that he simply couldn't take anyone to the doctor; Shoon had made a connection in the medical field, but the previous Kumi-cho's connection had moved back to his home town in Hokkaido. He felt himself being set down on the wood of the dining room table, and he moved his own hand down to where the other persons was, putting his hand over theirs, helping to press it firmly to his side, feeling his own blood cover his fingers. After a couple of seconds Inoo's voice told him to let go, and let Hikaru take over. Weakly, he let his hand fall, taking the other persons hand with his own, the person slipping his hand into Daiki's intertwining their slippery fingers tightly, giving his hand a squeeze, the blood hot and sticky on their skin. A breath whispered in his ear, and he could sense their body as they leaned in

"Thank you." Yamada breathed, giving Daiki's bloody hand another squeeze as Hikaru began stitching his gash closed. Daiki forced a smile onto his lips, trying to assure Yamada that he would be fine, and reveling in Yamada's concern for him, but he was exhausted, and he really wanted to simply go to bed, he decided. He forced his eyes open and examined his surroundings, trying to pull himself into a sitting position; but Hikaru and Yabu both yelled

_"Hell no."_

"Lay down Daiki, you're just gonna make it worse." Hikaru added, but Daiki didn't listen, still struggling to sit up. Ryutaro sighed, forcing him to lay flat on the table, and holding him down with one hand, a weird look in his eye. Yamada noticed it too.

"What're you—?" Ryutaro slugged Daiki in the face, and Daiki's consciousness was lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Daiki slowly opened his eyes, recognizing his bedroom ceiling. A second later he noticed the pulsing warm pain covering the right side of his face. He was gonna kill Ryutaro.

"Arioka-kun..." There was a noise, and a squeal.

"Dai-chan!" Inoo looked extraordinarily happy. "You've finally woken up! How're you feeling?" Inoo and Yamada had apparently been talking, Yamada too now making his way over to the bed, watching as Daiki felt himself pinned to his pillow as Inoo snuggled up against his uninjured side, the older boy checking over his face with a gentle finger, examining it carefully. Daiki shoved him away, embarrassed.

"I'm fine you fool; get offa me." Inoo pouted a bit, whining about how mean Daiki was, and Yamada giggled, a big grin on his face. This just caused Daiki to blush harder, burying his face in his covers. After a second there was the click of the door, and Inoo leaned back, resting his head on Daiki's pillow.

"Yama-chan's gone now, you can look." Daiki peeked his eyes over the edge of his covers, and rolled over, away from Inoo, ignoring the stinging from pressing on his new gash.

"Well then. I was going to tell you that I was impressed by how mature you've become, Dai-chan. But if you're getting embarrassed by a little friendliness, then..." Daiki sent Inoo a look, and his friend laughed a bit. "I'm kidding! I'm proud of you Dai-chan. You...you're growing up." Inoo's smile dropped a bit, and he looked a little wistful. This time, Daiki didn't shove him away when he snuggled up close, a warm mutual feeling running between the two of them, as they silently marveled their companionship.

"So...what were you discussing with Ryosuke?" Daiki asked after a few minutes, his curiosity getting the better of him. Inoo giggled, poking Daiki in the cheek.

"You."

"Me? What about me?" His eagerness crept into his voice, and Inoo patted him on the head.

"We were just talking about your potential as a boyfriend, basically." Daiki blinked dumbly at Inoo, surprised.

"My...potential?"

"He's been very worried about you; your heroic act made quite an impression—saving him from Kamiki like that. He's barely left your side ever since we came back from the raid. You've gained some popularity in his books, that's for sure." Inoo said, hopping up from the bed, as muffled calls rang up the stairs.

"That's the dinner announcement; I'm off buddy." Daiki started to get up out of the bed too, hungry, but Inoo pushed him gently back down.

"Nah. Milk your injury a little. I'll send Yama-chan up with your food as soon as dinner's done. Give you two some alone time." With that, Inoo left, and sure enough forty-five minutes later there was a soft knock on the door, and Yamada entered, a tray full of food in his hands. Daiki couldn't help but smile when the younger boy came in, that slightly nervous smile on his face.

"I have your dinner, Arioka-kun..." Yamada announced, gently sitting on the edge of Daiki's bed, placing the tray on Daiki's waiting lap. Daiki's stomach growled as he examined the hot food, and he was just about to dig in when he stopped himself, glancing up at Yamada. Inoo had said to milk his injury. How far could he go with it? Yamada was watching him, and when Daiki didn't begin eating he caught Daiki's eyes. Daiki tried to look as pitiful as possible, looking up at Yamada forlornly through his bangs. Yamada scooted closer, eventually making his way across the bed until he was sitting at by the headboard, next to Daiki, picking up the chopsticks he had placed on the tray, and getting a bite of rice from the bowl, bringing the hot grains to Daiki's lips. Daiki had to bite back his smile as he took the utensils into his mouth. Yes! Carefully Yamada fed him bite by bite until the tray was empty. Throughout the time it had taken to clear the tray they had both grown more and more relaxed, Yamada making small talk as he meticulously fed Daiki his meal. Daiki loved the attention, and when Yamada left for the night he let himself giggle and grin like a fool. That little moment shouldn't have made him so happy. But...it did. And he was _loving_ it.

Due to Daiki's continued pitifulness and Yamada's concern, this meal routine lasted for a full week before Daiki couldn't fake it anymore, and he allowed himself to return to his lifestyle before his injury; swindling another plain girl, occasionally getting into petty fights, and watching Yamada whenever the younger boy wasn't noticing. The last bit he was doing much less than before, simply because Yamada was with him a lot more than before. He would be waiting for Daiki to get home from a swindle, and would sit with him on the couch every night after dinner, their shoulders pressed together comfortably as they talked about whatever came to their minds. Yamada's thought process was an interesting one; one that Daiki was beginning to understand—much to his delight.

A couple of weeks passed by, and Daiki was out with his "girlfriend" Ayumi at a local park, pushing the girl on a swing gently, half-listening to the conversation they were having, when his eyes caught on three figures across the street that he recognized despite the approaching dusk. Wakaba members Miura Haruma, Sato Takeru, and Miura Shohei looked celebratory, joking as they jaywalked from their side of the street, now only twenty or thirty feet away. Their eyes caught on his face, and after a double take they watched him for a while, before losing interest and slipping into shadows, disappearing into the night. Daiki's stomach twisted in a burning uneasiness and he already felt himself getting angry as he quickly said goodnight to Ayumi and hurried home, eager to tell someone about the Wakaba members, not liking how smug they had looked. He got back just as the rest of the boys were finishing dinner, and when he let himself in all of their heads turned his way.

"Hey, Shortie." Takaki said, smirking a bit. Already frustrated, Daiki was asking for a reason to hit somebody, and didn't miss the chance to slug the taller boy in the jaw, the punch forcing him backwards, stumbling into Ryutaro. That got their attention. Takaki was furious, and he sent Daiki a death glare, ready to go at it seriously. A full out fight was stopped by Yamada, who unsheathed his katana, the blade glinting in the artificial light, separating the two boys and giving them a chance to catch themselves.

"Arioka-kun, where's Inoo-kun? He said he'd be back by dinner." Yamada asked, his voice calming, the question not. Where was Inoo? He wasn't usually out late, he said he didn't really like staying up late. Daiki's sixth sense was tingling, setting him on edge, and thinking of the Wakaba members expressions earlier made him fear the worst.

"Shit." He wheeled around, exiting the house and jogging anxiously down the alley, eyes searching every connecting backstreet for a body, scared. Before he reached the end he was caught by Yamada and Hikaru, who silently joined the search. By now it was night; their only light source the beams of the moon, full and bright when not covered by the heavy clouds that blanketed the sky. The air smelled of rain, and as the night got later it began to sprinkle, the gentle drops becoming thicker and bigger as time went on, drenching the three of them, causing their shirts to cling to their bodies, and their hair to drip in their eyes, blurring their vision. As they searched Daiki's fear grew larger and larger in his chest, until—

"There! Look, over there!" Hikaru announced; pointing with his finger to a black mass that Daiki recognized as a person lying curled up in the alley behind a row of small shops. They all ran over, their fears confirmed. Inoo was shivering, eyes closed but obviously still just barely conscious. He was forming bruises all along what skin they could see, and was nursing a swollen lip, the blood washed away by the rain. Hikaru and Yamada bent down, worried, already asking Inoo hurried questions they didn't expect to be answered, and beginning to inspect the damage. Daiki looked down at his injured friend, and his world flashed red as he felt himself filling up with fury. He felt the beast roaring inside of himself and the laughing faces of the three Wakaba members forced themselves to the front of his memories. They would pay. The familiar desperate anger dulled him, his heart scabbing over; and he turned away, running back out into the blackness. Hurried footsteps chased after him, but he ignored them. The chaser was speaking, but the sound of the rain on the thick cold buildings and his own pumping heart deafened him, and he didn't recognize the voice.

"DAIKI!" That one word broke through the senselessness, and he stopped running. He turned, and Yamada was standing there shivering in the rain, the younger boys eyes begging him not to go. Pleading for him not to do this. Daiki took it all in for one time stopping moment, before turning away, back toward the empty street, and running once more, his blood pounding in his ears. He was ready to kill somebody. By fate, coincidence, or some animalistic sixth sense he found his prey within twenty minutes of searching. They had just exited a club, and they were exuberant, and giggly. Perfect; they wouldn't see him coming.

They didn't. He had knocked Takeru to the ground before the other two had realized he was there. People around gasped at the seemingly unprovoked violence, and a couple of brave men went to aid the Wakaba members. They didn't stand a chance. Takeru was unconscious before Haruma even managed to land a punch on Daiki's tense body, the taller boy's fist bouncing off of the sinew almost harmlessly as Daiki pounced, a faceless pedestrian with too much bravery getting a punch to the face followed by a couple of random kicks to body, Daiki's frenzy blind, numb. He fought there in rain until he turned and found himself alone, all other human life fled or unconscious. His breathing came out in heavy bursts and he felt himself beginning to relax internally, the monster retreating back into its corner of his soul as he listened to the calming sound of the rain and thunder. Thunder.

Yamada's pleading expression, the way he stood shaking in the rain like an abandoned puppy, his entire body wet, the waterlogged clothes doing nothing to protect him filled Daiki's heart, and with a sudden wash of horror he realized: he had left Yamada somewhere in the streets. What would this do to Yamada; what would being left out in this storm do to him? _"He doesn't mind the rain, but thunder terrifies him. He always hides in the closet." _Cursing to himself, Daiki took off running once more, trying to recall exactly what had happened. It had been less than an hour ago; he should be able to do this. All he could recall was Yamada screaming at him. Screaming his name. For the first time Yamada had called him Daiki, instead of Arioka-kun. Yamada had called for him, and he had abandoned the younger boy. _Shit._ He ran faster, as a pit of guilt and fear opened up in his chest—for the first time in his life, Daiki wanted to be punished.

Daiki ran for hours through the streets, the storm only getting worse as he searched. Finally, logic took over, and he returned home. Yamada was probably there in bed, dry and safe. When Daiki walked through the door his hopes were dashed with a punch to the face. When Yuto's knuckles hit his jaw, instead of feeling angry, he felt empty, and as he looked around at Ryutaro's furious face, he knew: Yamada wasn't back. The boy was still missing—and it was his fault. They all refused to talk to him, and he sat, the pulses in his swelling lips counting away the hours as he sat and waited. Finally, as the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof faded away, and the first rays of daylight shone through the windows the door creaked open.


	5. Chapter 5

The wrong door. Chinen peaked his out of his office, his hair was still unbrushed, and his oversized pajamas hung loosely on his tiny frame. Despite this cuteness, when he gestured for Daiki to come over, Daiki felt a nervous shift in his insides. He followed the young boy into the room, Chinen sitting nimbly behind his desk, a cup of warm tea waiting for him, its steam rising into the air in twisting contortions, relaxing the knot in Daiki's stomach as he trained his eyes on its fading tendrils.

"Daiki, Hikaru told me what happened." Chinen announced, eyes meeting Daiki's own.

"What did you do after you found Inoo?" Daiki felt the answer pulled from his lips.

"I tracked down the Wakaba members that beat him up and repaid the favor." Chinen's eyebrows went up.

"With Yamada? He left with you."

"No sir....I...left him behind. He didn't come with me." A flash of comprehension burned through Chinen's eyes. One that made Daiki feel guilty.

"And did you bring Yamada home with you, once you had finished your revenge?" Chinen already knew the answer; Daiki could see it in his eyes.

"No sir."

"You can go now, Daiki. I will not be needing anymore information from you today." Chinen dismissed him suddenly, head lolling back on the chair, eyes shut. Daiki stood, and after a small bow he left the office, and returned to the living room—where Yamada was standing, dripping wet and shivering by the open door.

Yamada didn't look him in the eye; his face covered all most all of the way by his hands, balled into fists, and pressed to his cheeks, obscuring everything except for his eyes. The morning sunlight streamed through the crack in the door, reflecting off of his wet skin and hair in thousands of little lights, blinding. Daiki froze. Yamada stepped out of the light, shutting the door, and the shadow of the room transformed him from the dazzling creature he had appeared to be, and allowed Daiki to fully see what the night had done to him. His pale skin, no longer reflectant, showed the deep purple bags under his puffy red eyes. His lips were bleeding where he had bitten them, and he had left his own fingernail marks on his arms, the blood leaving trails down his arms and dripping off at the elbows, dried once crimson pathways.

Daiki's eyes swept over the damage, and it was as though someone had taken a knife and decided to carve their name into his stomach. He wanted to apologize, to get angry, to fix his mistake. He didn't have the right to do any of that. He ducked his head, and silently left the room, climbing the stairs and ducking into the bathroom, numbly starting the shower and stripping himself of his clothes, briefly noting his swollen lip before hopping into the little cubicle, and shutting the door. The warm water soothed his muscles, the walls around him washed away, and he despaired.

He let the waves of regret and frustration crash over him, and he slumped, watching the water swirl down the drain listlessly.

_Daiki blinked, eyes unfocused. He looked around to find himself in a blank whiteness, empty space stretching for an immeasurable distance. He recognized this place; he'd been here once before. Numbly he looked down at his arms and there, as expected, was a red ribbon tied simply around his wrist. He began walking. As he walked, he looked ahead for the sakura tree, and soon he found it. As before, his ribbon began fading to a dull gray the closer to the tree he came, until suddenly the lengths were streaked with a pale peach, small threads of the color forcing their lengths through, until the ribbon was nearly all peach. He froze. This was not the only new thing. Yamada was now crying, shivering and crying, and surrounded and covered in an ugly greenish-yellow paint._

_The paint was smeared in his hair and on his clothes and skin, and it had even gotten on the peach colored ribbon that was looped tightly around Yamada's wrist, drowning the gentle peach with the repugnant yellow. As he observed the scene a wave of nauseous regret filled his body, and somehow he understood that the yellow paint was his fault. His cowardice, his anger, his betrayal—was the cause. Daiki ran, but as he drew closer the sakura tree pulled its branches in, wrapping around Yamada. Daiki clawed and pulled, yelling at the tree, but it just tucked Yamada's weeping form closer. The ribbon connecting their wrists drew taught, and began to fray, until only a few small threads connected them. Daiki watched it disintegrate in horror, and finally let out desperate "NO!"—_

Daiki's eyes opened with a jolt, and he looked around, disoriented. He was still in the shower, he had fallen, and his head was resting against the wall, his neck at an awkward angle. He adjusted himself on the shower floor, the water still hitting his body warmly, soothing his stiff muscles. He tried to remember when he had fallen asleep. He couldn't. He quickly washed his body, embarrassed, and hopped out of the cubicle. Once he had dried himself and pulled on some boxers he returned to his bedroom, and tiptoed in, his eyes catching on Inoo, who was fast asleep, his black hair all Daiki could see peeking out from his sheets. Standing there in the dimly lit bedroom, Daiki felt the chills of loneliness and fatigue creep over his body. Before he thought about it, he crawled under the covers, and curled up next to Inoo, burying his head under his friend's chin and falling asleep.

Daiki woke with a jolt, as a cold weird feeling in his ear pulled him out of his rest. He sat shaking his head back and forth for a minute, and Inoo giggled, the look on the older boys face announcing him as the culprit.

"Hey there, handsome." Inoo said, grinning at Daiki, and then wincing, the action irritating some of the bruises on his mottled face. Daiki just stuck his finger in his ear, attempting to dispel the weird feeling that still lingered, tingling. He tried not to look at Inoo, just seeing his friend looking so abused was upsetting.

"So, how've you been while I've been under? Everyone's acting funny..." Inoo tacked on the last bit under his breath, barely loud enough for Daiki to hear.

"It's been a crazy night...but first, let me see you—how bad is it?" Daiki forced himself to give Inoo a once over, despite Inoo's slight protests. The bruising was substantial, but they hadn't taken a knife to him, and it wasn't anything permanent. Daiki relaxed a little. He'd done much worse damage to them. After the checkup, Daiki told Inoo all about his night, from the moment he first noticed the Wakaba, up to when Yamada came home. The only part he left out was the dream. Somehow, that felt personal, private, something he wanted to keep to himself. As he talked the playful smile that usually resided on Inoo's pouty lips fell off of his face, and he looked one hundred percent serious. He sat still in the bed, and when Daiki told him about running off to find the Wakaba members Inoo suddenly whacked him on the head.

"What the hell?!" They both said at the same time, and Daiki shot Inoo an incredulous look. What was the thwack for?!

"Why'd you do that—run after them? Why would you...?" Inoo looked strange, the expression on his face a painful looking mixture of happiness and grief, one that Daiki didn't understand. He thought it was obvious.

"You're my best friend. You're important to me. I couldn't let them do something like that to you." Inoo was looking down at his hands, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks gently, and he sighed, a small smile on his face.

"I'm your best friend." Inoo said, and Daiki nodded. What was the deal? They had established this years ago.

"Okay so, back to the story. You ran off and beat up the Wakaba members, and....?" Inoo prompted, back to his normal self. Daiki let it slide, taking Inoo's change in topic as a sign that he wanted Daiki to forget whatever weirdness Inoo had shown just seconds before, and continue on with his recount of the nights events. Inoo didn't speak again until Daiki had finished, and was sitting there nervously, waiting for a response.

"....you left Yamada alone in a thunderstorm, after he begged you to stay, knowing full well that he was afraid of thunder, to go beat up guys for me...basically." Inoo sighed. "You are no good at this love thing, Dai-chan."

Daiki would have been defensive...but it was true. He buried his face in his hands and let out pathetic sound.

"Any ideas on how I could fix this?" Inoo stroked an imaginary beard, pondering.

"No...but I know where you could get some ideas...have you ever seen a chick flick, Dai-chan?" Inoo broke out in a grin as he uttered the words 'chick flick'. Daiki looked at him as though he had just suggested that he eat rubber.

"No."

"You should."

"Hell no. That's just...no."

The next day Daiki found himself at the movie theatre, cursing silently to himself as he paid for his ticket, and sat down in the crowded theatre, full of teenage girls, accompanied occasionally by the semi-reluctant looking boyfriend. He found himself a seat at the back of the theatre away from the katagi and sat down, trying not to act uncomfortable. The previews began, and the girls stopped chattering. Then, finally, the movie started, just as—tap tap Daiki sent the direction of the tapping his best I'm going to eat you if you touch me again, you bastard face. It was a little boy.

"Dragon-san, Sir!" The boy muttered an urgent tone in his voice. That threw Daiki for a loop. In the dim light of the theatre, he tried to make out the boys face.

"Kishimoto?" Daiki whispered. The boy nodded. Kishimoto was one of the Kumi underlings.

"Morimoto-san sent me. There are rumors of a Wakaba attack—a retaliation for something we did."

Daiki's stomach sank into his spine as he comprehended the message. The Wakaba were coming; he had baited them.

"Go warn the underling's. I'm going to go—thanks, Kishimoto." Daiki said in a rush, already halfway out of the theatre, barely giving the little boy a glance before breaking out into a run, all thoughts of his girly-movie forgotten. As he ran the sun began to set, the shadows lengthening, and the sun's rays seeping across the sky, dying it a blood red. Daiki ran numbly until he reached home, and he felt a weight off of his chest when he realized he couldn't hear any sounds of battle. This weight swung back around and slugged him in the throat when the gunshot cracked through the alley.


	6. Chapter 6

_NO!_ "RYOSUKE!" He burst through the door, frantic. There, in the center of the living room floor Hikaru and a Wakaba member were rolling around, fighting over a handgun. A small round hole was still smoking in the living room wall over Yabu’s head. Daiki seized the chance to kick the enemy boy in the head and neck a few times, and he leaned down, Hikaru wrenching the gun from the other boy’s fingers, Daiki's eyes still searching frantically for Yamada.

"RYOSUKE!?" He yelled again, and this time he saw the boy, fighting with Wakaba Katsumi. Daiki rushed over, grabbing Katsumi from behind and getting him in a headlock, pulling him away from Yamada. He threw the boy to the ground, and pulled Yamada behind him, protecting him. He wasn't going to let Yamada get hurt. Yuto passed them, in a fight with a Wakaba member a couple of years older than himself. Yamada made a move to go help him, but Daiki blocked him from getting by, keeping him behind him. Safe. Yamada yelled something at him, but Daiki didn't quite catch the words. Ryuya rushed them, and Daiki slugged the older boy in the ribs, using his other hand to push Yamada back, up onto the staircase. Ryuya caught Daiki while he was preoccupied, and slashed a cut across Daiki's stomach, the blade of his knife whipping through Daiki's clothes in one fluid motion. Daiki whipped around, blood seeping through his purple tanktop, and grabbed the knife blade, jerking the weapon out of the bigger guy’s hand, the pain just making him angry. He saw red, and the next thing he knew he had Ryuya on the ground, pinning him there with one foot, his fists dripping with the mixed blood if his opponent and blood from his own knuckles. Ryuya made a run for it, and Daiki let him go; the fighting was already dissipating, the last few Wakaba members on their way out the door.

Then it was quiet. The only sound their heavy breathing as the Heisei Kumi members looked around at each other, in that state all humans are in after they survive a life threatening event. Then Hikaru leaped forward as Yuto fell to his knees, catching him just before his torso hit the ground. Yamada too had made to go help Yuto, but Daiki—still in protection mode—pushed him back. A split second later Daiki found himself knocked to the ground by a painful thwack to the back of his knees, and he looked up startled, into Yamada's face. The littler boy was angry, tears of frustration and hurt running down his face as he glared down at Daiki, his katana raised.

"What the HELL was all of that?!" Yamada asked, shaking slightly, as he stands there, waiting for Daiki to respond. Daiki was dumbfounded, and as he found his mouth forming unintelligible attempts at speech.

"I....I..."

"I-I'm not your toy, Arioka-kun. You can't do with me whatever you wish. I'm not anyone's toy...not anymore." Yamada's voice was raw, and tear after tear slipped down his cheeks, but he stood tall, not defeated or scared, sending one last look Daiki's way before turning and running to Yuto's side.

Daiki's mind went numb. He didn't know how he ended up sitting on the steps, or what anyone else had done in the time that had lapsed. It was as though his body had decided it didn't want to feel anymore—didn't want to think anymore—and was shutting down. When Ryutaro walked up however, he became wary. It must have shown on his face because Ryu sent him a little smile, and said in a voice like those people use to keep wild beasts calm

"Don't worry, I'm just going to sew up your stomach." _Huh?_ Daiki looked down automatically, fingers searching his midsection until they came in contact with the opened flesh, and he winced as a pain ran through his stomach. Damn it. Gingerly he pulled off his tank top, surprised by how torn it was, and examined his wound properly. It was a clean slice; running from the left side of his bellybutton up diagonally to the right edge of his ribcage. He sighed, and opened up his arms to give Ryutaro a clear shot with the needle, but Ryu hesitated,

"I'd like to be able to use the table..."

Daiki glanced over at their huge kitchen table, and found it surrounded by Hikaru, Yabu, Yamada, and Takaki, all talking in hushed calming tones, and when Takaki ran off Daiki was able to see what was so important on the table. Yuto. His face was screwed up in a pained growl, and his leg stuck out at an odd angle, tears streaming from his eyes and dripping past his ears onto the tabletop. There was no way Ryu was going to be able to use the table. The littler boy too realized this, and he was silent for a second, pondering, his eyes tracing over Daiki's wound as he thought.

"Lay down."_ What?_

"Here?" They both looked down at the space, right in the doorway to the kitchen, at the foot of the stairs. Daiki's body would be right in the way.

"By the couch." Ryutaro decided, and Daiki stood up, gingerly making his way over to the couch, using the armrest to lower himself to the ground. He realized as soon as he relaxed on the floor that he could still see everything going on in the kitchen from this angle. He barely had time to register this however, before his focus was occupied by the sudden weight on his thighs.

"Shit!" He cursed quietly in surprise, head jerking back up to see Ryu sitting on his legs, the boy busy threading his needle with nimble fingers.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Daiki asked quietly, not wanting to draw the other boys’ attention to their awkward position. Ryu looked down and Daiki could have sworn he almost blushed, but it was gone in a flash, and he let one side of his mouth raise in a faint smirk.

"This way I have a good angle, now hold still." The younger boy leaned down, hunched over Daiki’s wound, before carefully slipping the needle through his raw flesh. Daiki had been expecting the spike of pain that the needle carried with its thread, and he arranged his face in a calm mask, tilting his head to watch the boys in the kitchen, trying his best to ignore what was happening to his own body. His eyes landed on Yamada who was standing on the left side of the table, hand cupping Yuto's face, talking to him; keeping him calm. Hikaru was bent over Yuto's wonky leg, his hands gripping the limb firmly. Then, without warning he moved, and with a loud crack the limb returned to its intended position. Yuto screamed, the sound raw and painful to listen to. Ryu winced, pausing in his meticulous knotting of the third stitch with a pained expression. Daiki watched Yamada's shaking hands as the beautiful boy caressed Yuto's cheeks, wiping away tears with his thumbs and letting his fingertips dance soothingly over the skin and through Yuto's feathery black hair. His breath caught in his throat when Yamada leaned down, his perfect, rose petal-lips only a centimeter or two from Yuto's own—

"He cried last night you know." Yamada pulled back from Yuto's face, and Daiki turned, relieved, to Ryutaro.

"What?" Ryu motioned to where Daiki had been looking.

"Yamada. He cried last night. He had nightmares again." The littler boy flicked his bangs out of his eyes and slipped the needle through Daiki's flesh. His offhand act being thrown off by the way he glanced at Daiki's face, eyes serious and a little challenging.

"It's your fault." He said as he tied the knot in the fourth stitch, clipping the string with a zinging sound. Daiki waited to see if he would say any more, as he tried to ignore the pain and anger—the frustration and self hatred that was building in his stomach the more Ryutaro talked.

"He asked for you, begging for you to save him right before he woke up."

Ryu's words cut across Daiki's chest like an axe, and they left behind a burning open wound that made Daiki's eyes water. He refused to cry.

"So, Dragon-san," Ryutaro said Daiki's nickname with disdain "you'd better get your act together fast, because everyone, and I mean everyone" He glanced pointedly at the Kumi-cho. "is getting fed up, and you're the bad guy here." Daiki's eyes glazed over unfocused, as he processed Ryutaro's words. If the boy kept talking, Daiki didn't hear him. He shut himself up in his mind, his conscious went to sleep, and his body went on autopilot, his subconscious at the reins. His emotions were released, unhindered by words. The problem was that he didn't know what they were.

It's late into the night, and Daiki can't fall asleep. He's in his pajama pants, and his midsection and right hand are wrapped in gauze, the layer protecting his stitches. Bruises have formed on his knuckles and jawline, and his body is exhausted. He finds himself sitting in the hall, head against the wall, his eyes seeing nothing as he stares blankly ahead. Then one noise washes over him, breaking through the blurry emotions that had built up in his brain. The muffled sound of his name, called in a whimper. As though woken from a dream, he realized that he had brought himself to Yamada's bedroom door, and he froze, as a muffled pleading shriek came from the room, and a light flicked on. He jumped up, good hand on the door knob, but Ryutaro's voice stopped him.

"Yama-chan! Shit. Yamada! Wake up! Wake—" There was a moment of silence, and then—sobbing.

"Oh....crap. It's okay." Ryutaro whispered. Daiki listened as Yamada cried, his despairing cries accompanied by Ryutaro's low voiced, smooth, calm attempts to soothe him.

"D-daiki...Dai-ki..." Yamada's weeping was reduced down to the sound of shaky breaths and weak mutterings, until all noise was extinguished, and Daiki stood there listening to the silence, frozen with his hand on the doorknob. A quake ran through his body, and he jerked back, startled when the door creaked open. Ryutaro froze, and they stared at each other for a moment, before Ryutaro brushed past with a muttered

"You have something on your face, bastard." Daiki put his hand to his cheek after Ryutaro had turned the corner, and found a tear trail running to his chin. He rubbed at it, confused slightly, and peeked through the doorway into the room Yamada and Ryutaro shared. All he could make out was the dark form of the bunk beds, and a lump on the bottom mattress that even in the poor lighting he could tell was Yamada. He thought about going in, but when he tried to move his feet the part of his soul that controlled his actions shunned that will away, and he found himself unable to go forward. He pivoted around and wandered back to his own bed, tossing and turning for hours before falling into a poor version of the peace called sleep.

The next night he once again found himself at Yamada's bedroom door, listening as the boy cried and yelled for him, powerless to help. He always froze at the door, unable to go in, only able to listen as Yamada's nightmare tortured his mentality. He could never remember crying, but the tear lines he went to bed with, and puffy eyes he woke up to proved that he was. He was torturing himself, by denying himself the ability to help the one he loved he was punishing himself. He could have prevented this. This was all his fault.

Apparently he wasn't doing a good enough job at the punishment thing, because four nights into this routine Chinen called him into his office.

"You have been causing a disturbance, Arioka." The little Kumi-cho spoke in solid serious words, big eyes watching Daiki over the edge of his desk. A messy little ball of fear tried to form in the back of his throat, but he snuffed it out, and his face remained blank.

"So," Chinen sat back in his chair and opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a red velvet drawstring bag, about the size of a small melon. "I had this prepared for you. It's yours to keep, but you're only to use it when I deem it necessary." Daiki's mind shot to one dreadful explanation, and in that moment he convinced himself that there was a knife in the bag, and he was going to have to cut off his pinky. Yubizume. He'd never really contemplated it before, but now that he was he realized why it was so effective as a punishment. Just the thought made him feel as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice into his stomach.

The Kumi-cho passed the bag across the desk, and Daiki gripped it with slightly shaky fingers. Chinen watched his face and said

"You'll know what to do." Daiki nodded, and realizing that the conversation was over he stood and left the room, hastily escaping out the front door to the alley, where he slipped his hand inside the bag, pulling it back out with its contents gripped tightly in his grasp.

The gun glinted menacingly in the dim light from the street lamps. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked down at the murder weapon. What did the Kumi-cho want him to do with it? Awful possibilities cluttered his mind, and he shoved them aside, trying to calm himself by examining the—_his_—new gun. His inspection revealed that it was a fully loaded Glock 23, a .40 caliber semi-automatic that fit eerily well into his hand. He wanted to throw it, to get it away from him. He carefully slipped it back into the bag, and shut his eyes. _Shit._


	7. Chapter 7

He stood there, back against the outer wall until his world of dread was interrupted by the front door opening, Yabu and Takaki clopping down the steps, ready for a night on the town. They both clapped him on the shoulder as they passed, and he hid the bag under his knees, suspending the drawstring from a finger, trying to act normal.

He slipped the bag under one arm discretely, and hurried through the house to his room, where he took the bag, and shoved it in his bedside table drawer. He contemplated for almost twenty minutes before taking the pistol back out, and shoving it into the waistband of his jeans, hiding it under his shirt at the small of his back, a terrifying weight falling on his shoulders as the actions acknowledged his new responsibility. He was just about to go and sit outside Yamada's bedroom door when Inoo came in, flopping down on his bed and catching Daiki's eye.

"You going again?" Daiki nodded. Inoo let out a sigh.

"Dai-chan, do you want Yamada to fall in love with you?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Think about it. You're repenting. You feel awful, and you're showing it. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it...except him. Yamada has no idea. Look at things the way he must be seeing them right now. He doesn't know that you sit up for him, and cry for him every night. He doesn't know that you've been miserable since you left him in the rain. He doesn't know any of that. How could he? You haven't told him. As far as he knows you don't even care that he exists. You haven't said anything to him since that last raid. You ditch him in the rain, then all of a sudden you shield him from some bastards, and he doesn't know what to think. He's upset, he's afraid. Now it looks like you're ignoring him, and he's confused as hell." Inoo paused, giving a moment for the weight of his words to sink in.

"Look, I'm not telling you to stop or whatever, but there might be a more effective way to do this. And don't think that sitting on the other side of his bedroom door is going to change anything."

Daiki let a sigh escape his lips, too exhausted from his emotional roller coaster to focus on Inoo's words of wisdom. He didn't forget them though, he stored them in his brain, and the next day after a successful swindle he sat down in a cafe and let the advice roll around his brain. Inoo made a lot of sense, he admitted grudgingly. Then came the new task: finding a good way to change things. He borrowed a pen from the waiter, and brainstormed for a long time, writing ideas all over a napkin from the cafe in sprawling handwriting, often crossing them out immediately, cursing quietly to himself. Frustration built up, and he buried his face in his hands, moaning lowly. He ordered a second drink, and returned the pen to the waiter, letting his mind wander for a few minutes._ What did he want to be able to convey to Yamada?_ Suddenly, inspiration struck, and he sat up in his booth, a grin taking over his face of its own accord. Perfect. He left some money on the table, and hurried out, mind buzzing with new possibilities, an excited energy in his chest.

_You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen._

Daiki took his little sentence full of love and reread it with satisfaction. He then grabbed the tape dispenser he had picked up from the convenience store, and wrapped the paper around Yamada's toothbrush, sticking it in place with a little square of tape. The next day, the note was gone. A little leap of hope thumped his stomach. He continued to write little notes and hiding them in places only Yamada would look. He put them on the seat of the boys chair, on the sheath of his katana, in his laundry, and his shoes, in between the pages of the book Yamada was reading, and in the chess set. When it was Yamada's turn to cook dinner he stuck notes all over the kitchen, in pots and pans and on knives and in the fridge. As time went by the notes went from little notes of admiration, to those of apology, things like_ I don't deserve your forgiveness._ and_ You were too important to screw up on. I failed you._ now interspersed with the ones stating things like_ You mean the world to me._

_Your eyes are like chocolate, rich and warm, and sweet._

"Yosh!" He picked up his new mini confession and examined his handiwork. He put the cap on his marker, and from his box he picked a new color, decorating the edges of the paper with little designs, a content smile on his face.

"What's that?" at the sound of the voice Daiki jumped a foot in the air, and swept all of his little strips of paper close to him, hunching over his work, surprised.

"What the hell?" Inoo asked, and Daiki looked up at his friend, letting out a breath of relief.

"It's just you, Inoo-chan." Inoo sent a pout Daiki's way.

"Yeah, love you too. What are you doing?" Daiki leaned back in his chair, rearranging the little strips of paper and picking up a marker or two that had crashed to the floor.

"D'you remember that night a couple of weeks ago when you gave me the_ 'Yamada-doesn't-know-you-love-him-because-your-methods-suck'_ speech?" Inoo nodded, his expression showing that he had no idea where Daiki was going with this.

"Well, I thought about it, and I'm doing this!" He held out his newly decorated sentence. Inoo took it, reading it, and a grin spread on his face, growing until his eyes disappeared in it.

"Dai-chan, this....this is the cheesiest, most adorable thing you have ever done in your life. Shit―you're cute." He wrapped his arms around Daiki's shoulders from behind, their cheeks pressing together.

"D'you want any help?" He asked, setting the piece of paper down on the table Daiki was working at. Daiki shook his head, his eye catching on a stray marker, and diving under the table to fetch it.

"I'm going to do it on my own, ya know? Thanks though, buddy." Inoo nodded, and left him to his work, and Daiki stared down at the bundle of new messages. Now he just needed spots to put them.

The weeks went by, and he saved the one I'm sorry. too scared to release it for Yamada to find. To afraid to properly apologize. Because through it all Yamada still hadn't talked to him. Yamada still had nightmares. And through it all Daiki still hadn't found the ability to walk through that door, and rescue him.

The night of July 15 rolled around, and Daiki had finally found the guts to tape the simple _"I'm sorry."_ to the wall by Yamada's bed, in the boys room. Nerves had him unable to sit still, and he went out in the alley, dragging Takaki along with him for sparring practice. Daiki distracted himself by focusing all of his energy on Takaki. On defeating Takaki. Poor Takaki didn't stand much of a chance. Daiki had just pinned him to the ground for the third time that evening, when Ryutaro interrupted their scuffle, walking through them on his way out. He was dressed up, and he had a package all done up in shiny paper and ribbons under one arm. Both Daiki and Takaki stopped to examine their housemate.

"What's the occasion?" Ryutaro glanced over at them, a smile on his face.

"Shintaro. It's his birthday. We hang out all night every year on his birthday."

"Oh...well...have fun." Ryu nodded, and said

"I'll see you two tomorrow." a crooked smile playing on his lips. He walked off with a rare bounce in his step. After he turned the corner Daiki returned his attention to the taller boy laying under him, and before Takaki could get up he aimed a punch at his face, stopping it a hair above his nose. They stared at each other for a moment before Daiki let his arm go limp, and he stood up, brushing his pants off and helping Takaki to his feet.

"You've changed, you know that?"

"Huh?" Daiki wiped the sweat from his upper lip and his forehead and leaned against the side of one of the abandoned surrounding buildings.

"Last year you woulda slugged me in the face. You wouldn't have stopped yourself. You're more controlled now. More aware...of humanity. Like we're actually people to you now. You're not so...unemotional. You used to be ruthless you know. Well, you're still ruthless, I guess, but now you're just more...aware of it. I dunno if what I'm saying makes any sense, but...I like you better this way." Takaki glanced over at Daiki, his honesty burning through Daiki, and Daiki contemplated his words.

"Maybe it's because you finally have something you want to protect." Takaki offered, brushing himself off and heading back inside, the door swinging shut noisily behind him. Something he wanted to protect. Yes, he did have that. Takaki's words made him self-conscious, but he tucked that feeling away and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, letting them rake over the brick wall, tracing the shadows and dips where the mortar held the wall together. After a moment of blank calm he pushed his weight off of the wall and followed Takaki back inside, feeling hyper aware of himself.

After a quick shower and a few games of cards with Chinen, Inoo, and Hikaru, he went back to his room, slipping on loose sweatpants to sleep in and taking off his shirt, examining himself for a minute in the cheap full-body mirror that hung on his closet door. His muscles rippled under his skin, and there were scars reminding him of past battles and enemies. The most prominent was the one from the Wakaba bastard's knife, a purplish line slashing through his stomach. One day it would fade and nearly disappear. He let his eyes travel over his face. What if he got a knife to the face? What would he look like with a scar running down his cheek? With a chunk of his eyebrow permanently removed, or his lips caught in a snarl he would never be able to replace with a smile? He ran his fingers over his smooth skin while he contemplated, before sighing and leaving, walking up the hallway and rounding the corner to the end of that hall, pressing his ear to the door. Yamada had already gone to bed, he had seen him go upstairs, and it was around his bedtime. He should have seen the note...right? A knot of nervous anticipation formed in his stomach and he sat down, pressing his bare back against the wall, it's cool surface sending a shiver down his spine. He had sat there for almost two hours when he first heard it. A whimper. Dread rang through him. The second one confirmed his fear, and he cursed, hating the sound. Then, his name. Faint sounding through the door, he heard Yamada call for him.

"No! I...no! Daiki....D-daiki! Please! No!...Daiki!" He waited for the light to flick on, for the sounds of Ryutaro comforting Yamada to stop the pleads. They didn't come. Daiki wondered sickly what was taking him so long, he had never taken this long to wake before...Realization hit him in a stroke of understanding. Ryutaro wasn't coming to save Yamada tonight. Tonight he was out with his brother. Daiki looked at the door as though if he stared at it long enough it would show him what he should do. A yell from the room jolted him to his feet and he wrenched the door open, eyes locking on the lower bunk frantically. Yamada was tangled up in his blankets, limbs thrashing about, tears running down his cheeks. A whimper brought Daiki to his side, and he poked Yamada in the cheek. Nothing. He tried harder. Nothing. He shook his shoulder. Nope. Finally he took his fingers and pried Yamadas eyes open gently. Yamada sat up with a start, and after a second he burst into tears. Sobs racked his frame, the fourteen year old's muscular shoulders shaking, has hands reaching out blindly. Daiki sat on the bed, opening his arms, and to his amazement Yamada clung onto him, burying his face in Daikis shoulder, tears and snot smearing on his skin. Yamada's arms wrapped around Daiki's torso, fingernails digging into his back, and with shaky breaths he whispered

"Daiki." Repeatedly, as though his name would fix everything. Daiki was shocked, and he just sat stunned for nearly a full minute before allowing himself to wrap his arms around Yamadas torso, pulling him close.

"Shhh...it's okay. I'm here now. It was just a dream." Concern for the little boy was all that was on his mind, and he muttered soothing words and rubbed his back, feeling Yamada's heart pulsing quick and strong. Time stood still, and eventually Yamada fell silent, his breathing ragged, gasping and uneven. His head rested on Daiki's shoulder, and he eventually fell motionless. Daiki thought he had fallen asleep, until suddenly he unfurled his arm from Daiki's body and reached up, pulling something off of the wall behind them. Then Yamada pulled away altogether, standing up and walking over to the closet, pulling the door open. Daiki shivered when Yamada left him; feeling empty. Yamada shouldn't go. He should stay there all night, curled up in Daiki's arms. His eyes followed the littler boy, confused as to what he was doing. Then, he noticed the inside of the closet door, and it made sense. There, taped down in a cluster was every little note Daiki had ever hidden. With care Yamada stuck the new note among all of the others, smoothing it out with gentle fingers.

In silence Yamada padded back to the bed, sitting down in front of Daiki, eyes searching Daiki's face, his expression blank. Daiki let his eyes wander over Yamada's face too. His cheeks were blotchy and red, and his hair was all messed up. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, and his nose was running. He was stunning. Tentatively Daiki reached up, and after giving Yamada a moment to back away he wiped the tears from Yamada's cheeks, and the snot from his nose, and smiled a little smile. Yamada shut his eyes, and Daiki whispered

"You should probably go back to sleep." Wordlessly Yamada climbed back under his blankets, and Daiki made to stand up, feeling as though he wasn't wanted there anymore. He was stopped by Yamada grabbing his wrist.

"Don't...go. Please." Yamada looked scared, like a puppy being abandoned in a cardboard box. It was a look Daiki had seen once before, the look Yamada had given him when he'd abandoned him in the rain. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, scooting over to the corner against the wall and he leaned back against one of the posts supporting the top bunk.

"I'll stay." He pulled his knees to his chest, his feet resting against the side of Yamada's calves through the sheets. The fear left Yamada's eyes and he let out a breath he'd been holding, adjusting his head on his pillow he closed his eyes. In less than ten minutes he was out cold, peaceful and comfortable looking. Daiki watched him sleep, watched the calm, beautiful face and the steady rise and fall of the sheets. The hours ticked by and Daiki felt his eyelids begin to droop, itching and aching with tiredness. He fought against it, but eventually sleep took hold, and he fell into his dream world.


	8. Chapter 8

_Daiki looked around and felt his heart jump in his throat. The expanse of whiteness immediately made him feel aware of himself, and his surroundings―or lack of them. He let his eyes travel down, and when he found the blood red ribbon bound around his wrist he let out a breath he had been holding. Feeling nervous with anticipation he let himself follow the trail of the ribbon as it ran out away from him and along the ground. He followed it, and just as before the sakura tree came into view, and as he got closer he made out Yamada, sitting there under it. Before he got to the tree however, something else caught his eye. The ribbon, their bond. It wasn't red over here. And it wasn't gray. Or peach. Or even yellow. And it wasn't broken or frayed. It was weird looking, it wasn't shiny like silk, and it was white, with black markings on it. He stopped, crouching down to get a better look._  
_T__he ribbon was wrapped in paper. Strips of it, like a cocoon, and on the strips were words. Daiki's words. His messages wound around the ribbon like a bandage. As he watched, the messages changed, and disappeared. Well, changed wasn't the right word. They melted, absorbing into the ribbon, and where they were they dyed it a new color. The words stained it a rich teal, a promising, healing teal. Daiki felt himself grow excited, and he ran alongside the ribbon, watching as the papers were absorbed. Amazed. He followed it with his eyes glued on it, until he looked up to find himself under the sakura tree, only a few feet from Yamada. There on Yamada's wrist was the other end of the ribbon, and it wrapped all up his wrist and forearm, crisscrossing lengths of the teal, bright against his skin. He let his eyes trail up to Yamada's face, slightly afraid of what he might see there. Tear trails ran down the boy's cheeks from his big, beautiful brown eyes, but he was no longer crying, a small smile on his lips. As their eyes met Daiki felt himself stop breathing. He was so beautiful, so perfect. That realization threw itself in his face sharply, and he lost sense of anything but that. Stunned, waves of apologies filled his mouth, straining at his lips, but they stayed shut, and filled him, overflowing in the form of one tear that slid gently down his cheek. He didn't even know why he felt the need to tell Yamada that he was sorry. Or what it was specifically that he was apologizing for._  
_Y__amada's eyes caught his own, and he smiled a little smile. The smile grew, and then Daiki found himself on the ground next to the younger boy, legs crossed comfortably under him. Time seemed to stand still, and they could have been there for years for all Daiki could have cared. And as they sat there he could feel something good growing stronger between them. Gently he reached out, cupping Yamada's face with both hands, leaning forward, slowly, deliberately, closer and closer, and—_

Daiki woke to his shoulder being shook back and forth roughly. He opened his eyes, confused, to see that he was still sitting on the corner of Yamada's bed, dawn just beginning, with Yuto standing next to the bed, glaring at him like an overprotective and disapproving mother—Daiki had to stop himself from thinking_ boyfriend_. He sighed internally, and glared back. Yuto's skinny arm grabbed at his skin and pulled insistently, his eyes shooting to the door and back, the message in them clear. Daiki sent a glance of his own to Yamada, who was still fast asleep, cheek squished against his pillow, hair fallen in his eyes, before he carefully extricated himself from the bed, following Yuto just outside the room, shutting the door to keep their conversation from waking Yamada up.

"What do you want?" Daiki asked, not bothering to attempt being polite, annoyed with Yuto for making him leave Yamada's side. Yuto looked like he was about to cry himself, and he was shaking slightly, but his words came out serious and calm.

"You stay away from him."

"No." The response was an immediate reaction, and the quickness with which it was fired back obviously caught Yuto off guard. The determination in his eyes flashed with uncertainty for a moment, and Daiki felt himself switch his stance, gearing up for a fight.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but you need to stop. You're nothing but bad for him, and I'm not going to let him get broken again." Yuto declared. The importance of that last sentence wasn't caught by Daiki.

"I love him." He declared.

"I don't care." Yuto decided, and with that he adjusted himself so that his body blocked the doorway.

"Leave." Daiki wanted to hit him so badly. Just one punch, a little bit of blood, to wipe that look off of the younger boys face. But he realized that it would do nothing but put him back in Yamada's bad books, and that was the very last thing he needed, especially now that things were finally looking up.

"He asked me to stay here, I'm not going until he wants me too." Yuto scoffed at Daiki's refusal, but he said nothing else, and they both sat down, backs against opposite walls so that they could see each other properly. They didn't have to wait long before the sound of the door handle turning shattered the tense silence and brought them to their feet. Yamada opened the door and looked taken aback by the party waiting for him.

"Good morning, Yama-chan." Yuto said with a gentle smile, grabbing Yamada's hand and intertwining their fingers, sending a last disapproving glance Daiki's way before dragging Yamada down the hallway and out of sight, presumably for breakfast. Yamada sent Daiki one confused, questioning look before rounding the corner. Daiki trudged back to his own bedroom, where Inoo was changing out if his pajamas. His friend jumped when he opened the door, and hid himself as best he could with the pair of pants he was holding. Daiki felt a laugh bubble up out of his chest, and Inoo pouted, slowly lowering the pants back down.

"Inoo-chan, you're so skinny, ne?" Daiki announced, eyes raking over the lanky limbs and tiny waist. Inoo blushed a bit, slipping on the baggy jeans. Daiki noted for the first time how they hung loosely off of his hip bones, how his best friend's long legs seemed to disappear in the folds of the fabric, and worry washed over him.

"Ne, Inoo-chan eat more, okay?" He said, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes. Inoo let his gaze drop to his pale feet, his longs lashes brushing his cheeks, and he nodded like a five year old that had just gotten in trouble. Daiki gave him a quick hug and turned to the dresser, digging through the clothes and pulling out a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt, stripping off his pjs and slipping off his pants before he felt cold fingertips on his back.

"Inoo-chan...?"

"You have blood...little marks, like fingernails..." There was a pause, during which Daiki tried to figure out what Inoo was talking about. Then, Inoo gasped.

"You didn't have sex with Takaki did you?!"

"WHAT?!" Daiki felt his eyes grow to the size of saucers, and he spun around. Inoo looked horrified.

"NO! _What the hell?!_"

"Well, it's just that I remember seeing marks, like that, when...when he'd sleep with someone! On his back! And you didn't come in last night! And he's seductive!" Inoo defended himself, his face red. Daiki growled in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the suggestion.

"He's seductive?! How?" Inoo was looking extremely embarrassed, but signs of relief shone on his face.

"He―he's got a nice face, and a nice body, and he talks smooth, and he's...experienced." Inoo explained, and Daiki felt a blush of his own rising on his cheeks.

Not wanting to discuss Takaki's sex appeal any longer, and not wanting to explain that Yamada had done that to him when the boy had been crying, he slipped his shirt on and walked to the door.

"Breakfast?" He asked, and Inoo nodded, falling into step next to him as they trudged down the stairs and proceeded to raid the pantry.

After a quick breakfast Daiki was washing his dishes in the sink when he felt a finger trail on his shoulder, and he glanced back to see Yamada standing behind him, hand outstretched. They stood staring at each other for a moment, and Daiki smiled at him, setting down the china and turning to give Yamada his full attention. Yamada pursed his lips and dipped his head a bit so that his bangs hid his face a bit.

"I'm sorry about last night, Daiki."

"Don't be." Instead of being relieved, Yamada looked a little bit anxious.

"Do you want to bake cookies with me?" Did Daiki want to bake cookies? Daiki must have stared for a moment too long, because Yamada started backing away. Daiki felt a sudden impulse to pull him back.

"Yes!" He said quickly, nodding vigorously. Yamada looked up surprised, a smile forming on his lips.

"Okay." He wandered around the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out cookie sheets, measuring cups, two wooden spoons and some mixing bowls. Daiki just stood there, watching, as Yamada pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, staring at it for a moment and turning the dial on the oven to 190 degrees. When Yamada turned back to him he finally noticed that Daiki was just standing there. After a moment he tilted his head in confusion.

"I...I don't know how to...I've never made cookies before." Daiki confessed. Yamada's eyes betrayed a hint of wonder, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Never?"

"Not ever."

Yamada grinned.

"I'll teach you. It's fun!" He waved Daiki over, pulling the paper back out of his pocket. It had a recipe on it.

"Can you get two hundred fifty milliliters of butter out of the fridge for me? I'm going to get the brown sugar and the white sugar." Yamada was already walking in the direction of the pantry, hand outstretched toward the doorknob. Daiki pulled the fridge open, and quickly found the butter in a compartment in the door. Dumbfounded he pulled it out.

"How much was it?" He called, staring at the little rectangular sticks.

"Two hundred fifty milliliters." Daiki just grabbed a couple of the sticks, putting them on the table.

"How much is a stick?" He asked, turning to find Yamada with his arm in a bag of brown sugar.

"Um, one hundred eighteen." The littler boy informed him, pulling out a handful of the brown sugar and putting it in the measuring cup that was sitting beside him, in the process scattering brown sugar across the space of table between the bag and the measuring cup. Daiki cut one of the sticks in half and put the leftover back in the fridge.

"Good! Can you melt that and pour it in this bowl," Yamada indicated the bowl with the two sugars in it. "and I'll start on the dry ingredients!" Daiki nodded, grabbing a little glass bowl off of the table and pulling the paper off of the butter, plopping it into the bowl and popping it in the microwave. He stared at the buttons. How long did it take butter to melt? Thirty seconds should be fine, he decided. Thirty seconds later he opened the microwave to find that the butter had boiled over the edges of the bowl and was sizzling. Oops. He tried poking it with a quick finger. Ouch. He grabbed a pot holder from a hook by the sink and carefully pulled the bowl from the little box, carrying it over to the table and pouring it into the larger bowl. Yamada giggled. Daiki smiled a little, as the littler boy handed him a small electric mixer.

"Here, can you cream all of that together?" Daiki examined the machine, tentatively pushing a button. It whirred to life. Carefully he stuck it in the bowl, and within moments the sugar and butter were blended. Little splatters of the mixture had gotten on his shirt and hands, but he hadn't noticed. Yamada had finished with the bowl of dry ingredients and stepped over, the faint scent of roses that always accompanied him intoxicating Daiki, and he leaned in slightly as Yamada cracked an egg into the bowl. He pretended to watch as the younger boy added a tablespoon of vanilla. Then Yamada spun around, pointing to the electric mixer.

"You mix those in, and I'm gonna gradually add in the dry ingredients." Yamada wasn't really asking. He was telling. Daiki smiled a big smile. Yamada was growing comfortable. He did as Yamada had told, continuing to listen and follow directions until the bowl contained a gooey lump of tan sugary goodness scattered with morsels of chocolate. He looked over at the cookie sheets, pretty sure he knew what to do from here. He was wrong. Instead of arranging the dough in little balls on the cookie sheets as he had assumed Yamada would do, the littler boy swiped his pointer finger through the dough, closing his lips over it and smiling happily as he ate.

"What are you doing?" Yamada looked up at him, eyes wide and surprised.

"You've never had cookie dough?"

"It's made for baking, _then_ eating....right?" Daiki said, eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated this. Yamada simply ran his finger back through the dough, holding it out for Daiki.

"Here, you'll understand." Daiki's eyes were stuck on Yamada's finger, his mind on overdrive. _Oh god. Oh god. Does he want me to eat it off of—_

"C'mon Daiki it's not poisoned, I promise." Yamada wiggled his finger a bit, and Daiki squeezed his eyes shut, taking the finger in his mouth, mind screaming at him, heart pounding as he did so. He wrapped his tongue around Yamada's finger, sucking the cookie dough off and pulling back, rolling the dough and chocolate around his mouth, savoring the sweet sugariness, while his brain was asking him loudly what the hell he had just done. For something to do he stuck a finger of his own in the dough, glancing over at Yamada through his bangs. The little boy had a redness to his cheeks that hadn't been there before, and his breathing was a little...uneven.

"I-uh....I mean..." The obvious Did I go too far? hung in the air like an echo. In response, Yamada craned his neck forward, pulling Daiki's coated finger into his own mouth, muscles working. It felt hot and warm, and Daiki's mind went straight to the gutter. But when Yamada blinked up at him, eyes wide and innocent as he pulled away, the perverted thoughts melted away, and a rush of warmth and joy filled their place. There was another pause. Then, simultaneously, they burst out laughing, loud, unrestrained laughs that made their cheeks hurt. They giggled the rest of the way through the baking process, smearing dough on each other's faces, and tickling their sides. Soon, they had sheet after sheet of cookies laying all around the kitchen. Daiki took one, the steam from the cookie burning the tips of his fingers as he bit into it.

The rest of the morning was filled with the aroma and taste of cookies, and he didn't go out, he lazed around the house, playing chess and eating, and enjoying his housemates company. Then in the evening he goes out on a date with one of his swindling victims, taking another twenty thousand yen from her, before returning home for the night. The rest of the week, and the month, was like a big chocolate chip cookie, sweet, with little gooey amazing moments.


	9. Chapter 9

"Daiki, are you ready?" Yamada peeked his head around the door frame of Daiki and Inoo's shared bedroom. Daiki looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, his bangs falling in his eyes, and nodding before turning his attention back to his shoelaces, finishing lacing up his right boot and placing his feet on the wooden floor, standing. It had been forty-seven days since Daiki had burst into Yamada's room and saved him from his nightmare. Since that last night Yamada's dreams had become less and less frequent, and Daiki had always been there to push the evil away. Something slightly ironic, Takaki had remarked, given that to pretty much the rest of the world Daiki was the evil in their nightmares. Ryutaro peeking his head down from the top bunk to make sure that Daiki had the situation under control. After baking cookies they had fallen into a routine of regularly doing things together, and Daiki even found that Yuto, who at the beginning had been very disapproving, was relenting, just giving Yamada a quick hug before letting him go out the door with Daiki. Daiki loved these outings with the younger boy, and they spent lots of time wandering the city, seeing movies, climbing trees and sharing drinks in the coffee shops. All of the establishments knew who and what they were, and grateful for how civilized the two acted, often let them have their food for free. Life was good. Everything was perfect...except for one thing: the Glock. The Kumi-cho had ordered Daiki to keep it on his person at all times, and it now was a permanent weight on his heart. A constant reminder that his punishment could come at any moment. He and Yamada left their home, chatting about the colors of the leaves and the clouds, their feet following twisting streets until they hit the clothing departments.

Today they were on a mission to find themselves new coats. It was nearly September, and autumn was in full swing, chilly breezes tugging at their bangs and nipping at their noses. They pulled open the door of the first place and were greeted with a rush of warm air and the sight of racks and racks of windbreakers, thick fluffy coats, and everything in between. They _had_ to be able to find something for themselves to wear. Sure enough, within an hour they left the store with bags containing their purchases dangling from their wrists. Daiki made a mental note to return that night, having seen a little jean jacket that would look perfect wrapped around Yamada's little frame. Immediately they made their way off to a tailoring place that also did the Kumi's embroidery, dropping off Daiki's new black leather jacket with a description of what he wanted on the back and a rough sketch of his tattoo. Then Yamada left to get them doughnuts and Daiki followed the boy with his eyes as he crossed the street.

"How late will you be open tonight?" Daiki asked, turning back to the man that owned the shop. He quivered a bit, under Daiki’s gaze. He was scared out of his mind.

"Until you need me to be, sir." Daiki nodded, pleased with the response.

"Good. I'll be back before midnight with another article I want embroidered."

"Yes sir." Daiki nodded, effectively breaking off the conversation just as Yamada exited the doughnut shop across the street. Daiki felt a glow of happiness as he watched how Yamada smiled adorably at the little white box under his arms. If only he looked at Daiki with that much affection. If Daiki had any say in it, one day he would. Yamada returned, oblivious to Daiki's train of thought, with the box of warm doughnuts and a smile; his new coat, an adorable black pea coat, was buttoned around his frame, one of his hands in his pockets.

"Chocolate, blueberry, or the original glazed?" Yamada asked, opening the box, offering one to Daiki, eyes wide. Daiki let out an internal coo and took one, taking a bite before offering it to Yamada._ Is he gonna bite it? If he does then it'll be an indirect kiss, right?!_ Yamada plucked the pastry from Daiki's fingers, and within the minute it was gone, and he was licking the flakes of glaze off of his lips. The man told them to pick up the jacket in two weeks, and they thanked him, leaving the shop. They walked back toward home, eating the doughnuts as they walked, the sun began to set, and with the darkness a chill swooped in. Daiki shivered, his fingers growing numb with the cold. Slowly, giving Yamada plenty of time to pull away he slipped his left hand into the younger boy’s right pocket, his cold fingers bumping Yamada's warm ones. Wordlessly Yamada laced their fingers together, pulling Daiki's hand close to his body. An uncontrollable grin took over Daiki's face, happiness coursing through his veins, and he let out a yell

"WHOOHOO!" Yamada jumped, startled, and Daiki just grinned wider, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. Yamada grinned back, shaking his head at Daiki's antics, before pushing open the front door.

"We're back!" Yamada announced, and within minutes they were swept into a large game of cards that lasted well into the night, everyone laughing and teasing. The game ended in Ryutaro beating them all, winning 30,000¥ and Chinen announcing that he was going to bed. Takaki disappeared upstairs, returning after a few minutes dressed in clubbing attire, as he did almost every night. Daiki had been waiting for him.

"Can I come with you?" Takaki stopped, head flicking to one side in surprise.

"Uh, you want to?"

"Yeah."

"You can come, but...are you going in that?" Takaki's eyes swept over Daiki's frame, taking in the camo patterned long sleeve shirt, blue jeans, and the poufy black vest skeptically. Daiki sighed, sending a reproachful look Takaki's way.

"What do you want me to wear?" Takaki scratched at the back of his head, and grabbed Daiki by the arm, pulling him upstairs and into his bedroom, taking the liberty to dig through Daiki's drawers, throwing clothing of his choice onto the bed.

"Wear this." Daiki looked over the outfit Takaki had thrown together. A form fitting blue t-shirt with silver wings printed on the back that Inoo had given him once, with a pair of white jeans that Daiki knew were tight, not uncomfortably so, but when he slipped them on they hugged his thighs. Takaki smiled nodding.

"Now jewelry." He grabbed Daiki's nice watch and a few rings the smaller boy had taken from people he had beaten up over the years, slipping them onto various fingers.

"Done. You're a chick magnet." Takaki examined him. Daiki frowned.

"A really short chick magnet." Takaki revised. Daiki felt his aggravation get the better of him and he lunged, slugging Takaki in the stomach.

"Shut up." He growled. Takaki sucked in air, hunched over, cursing as soon as he could breathe.

"Mother fucker. God damn you, you fucking bastard. God. Shit...that hurt!" Daiki took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Can we just...go?" Takaki rubbed at his stomach, and nodded. They returned down the stairs, and when Daiki came down there was a little gasp. Daiki looked up, and he saw both Inoo and Yamada, who had been in the process of setting up a game of chess, staring at him.

"Where are you going, Dai-chan?" Inoo asked, taking him in, and Daiki blushed.

"I'm going out with Takaki." He announced, shoving his hands into his pockets. Both of them frowned in sync.

"Don't be out too late." Inoo said.

"Stay safe." Yamada added, standing up. He walked over, slowly slipping his arms around Daiki for a hug. Daiki grinned, reveling in the attention.

"You look nice." Yamada muttered, and when he pulled away they had matching blushes on their cheeks. Inoo watched him, eyes flashing with wariness, and Daiki sighed, reaching up to ruffle his friend’s hair.

"It'll be okay Inoochii, I'll be back soon." He leaned in, and whispered

"I'm not even actually going clubbing. I'm buying a surprise present for Yamada, so don't worry so much." Inoo nodded. And Daiki walked over to the door, pulling it open and letting Takaki walk out.

"You look sexy, Dai-chan!" Inoo called. Daiki smiled, flashing a peace sign at his roommate before walking out the door, and into the night. Takaki raised his eyebrows at him.

"You ready to go? That was quite the scene back there." Daiki's brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" Takaki threw his head back, dyed light brown tresses falling down his neck as he laughed.

"Oh, you're so oblivious. You're so dense, Daiki." Daiki was still confused, and he was starting to get annoyed.

"I'm leaving." He announced, spinning around and strolling off.

"Oi! I thought we were going clubbing!?" Daiki stopped, turning around, the streetlight making it hard to see Takaki.

"I'm not. I'm going out to get Yamada a secret present." He heard footsteps, and Takaki jogged over.

"Why?"

"I just want to." Daiki kicked at the street, sending a pebble flying. Takaki nodded, running a hand along the back of his neck.

"Okay then, let's go!" The taller boy announced, taking Daiki by the arm and pulling him in the direction he had started. Daiki yanked his arm out of Takaki's grasp, frowning at him.

"You're not coming." At Daiki's statement Takaki just rolled his eyes.

"Yes I am. I want to look at 'secret presents' too; and I'm not scared of you." Takaki singsonged, lolling his head back to look at Daiki from an angle. Daiki just huffed.

"Fine."

They took off through the streets, and once Daiki had relaxed a bit he managed to enjoy his company, the cool night air, and the glow of the moon and the streetlights, casting their shadows. They reached the clothing store and slipped inside.

"So, where is this secret present?" Takaki asked, scanning the racks of clothes, obviously skeptical of Daiki's fashion sense.

"Over here." Daiki grunted, leading Takaki to the heart of the floor, weaving through windbreakers and pea coats to the little section of jean jackets. He flicked through them, pulling out the one he had found earlier that day. It was a dark jean with an asymmetrical steep lapel and a zipper that traveled horizontally across the front of the jacket. Takaki eyed it for a minute before nodding.

"It's great. Very mature though, why don't you get it in a bigger size?" The brunette pulled out two more, each one bigger than the one Daiki held.

"He's this size though."

"Sure, now. But if you get him a bigger one he could wear it longer." Takaki argued. Daiki thought about it...but in the end still stuck with the one in his hands, leaving Takaki to go and pay, dragging the article up to the cashier's desk. The cashier smiled at him as he got close, waving slightly. He was a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, with dyed dark brown hair and a ring on his right pointer finger. He greeted Daiki, and asked him if he had managed to find everything okay. Daiki just nodded.

"You going somewhere special tonight, or do you dress like that all the time? It's a good style." The cashier said, ringing the jacket up. Daiki shrugged, and figured a little small talk wouldn't hurt.

"My friend over there told me I couldn't go out wearing what I had on before. He dressed me." Daiki gestured over to where Takaki was looking at scarves, and the cashier smiled in amusement.

"Well he does know how to dress I guess. He seems like the type to get a lot of girls." Daiki smiled at that, one of the biggest understatements of the century.

"And guys." Daiki threw on, just to make the guy uncomfortable. It worked, his mannerisms growing more jerky as he put the jacket into a bag, handing it over to Daiki.

"Just kidding!" Daiki said, laughing at the cashier’s expression.

"Hey, Dai-chan, you ready to go?" Takaki called, walking over. His eyes swept over the cashier, and he narrowed them slightly. The cashier just smiled, and Daiki nodded, pushing past Takaki to the front of the store and out into the sidewalk, Takaki following behind.

"Mmk, well I'm going to the tailors. You coming?" Daiki asked, turning to Takaki. The brunette shook his head, hands in his pockets.

"I'm going back, I need to talk to the Kumi-cho." Daiki nodded, clapping Takaki on the back as they went their separate ways. He walked through the streets, shopping bag slung over one shoulder. Once he reached the tailors he went straight to the back where the man from earlier in the day was waiting for him. He stood when Daiki walked in.

"Welcome, Arioka-san." Daiki just pulled the jacket out of its bag, getting straight to business.

"I want this embroidered on the back." He sketched out a design, handing it to the man. He took it carefully, examining it.

"When should I come by to pick it up?" Daiki asked, already heading for the door, despising the way this man shook with fear. He was pathetic. He looked over the designs.

"I should have both jackets complete in about a month, sir." Daiki nodded, slamming the door as he left. He stepped out and into a light rain. He sighed, knowing he would be drenched, and made his way home.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning Daiki had a date with one of the girls he was manipulating, but he was back before lunch and he spent the next two and a half hours determinedly attempting to beat Yamada at chess. His attempts however, were futile. The boy had become an unstoppable force, mentally calculating and always sixteen steps ahead. Then Yamada left to go on a date, and Daiki wandered the house, eventually grabbing Yabu, Takaki, and Hikaru as they left the Kumi-cho's office, getting them to agree on a game of poker. The game wasn't a serious one, they teased each other the whole time, and it ended with them rolling around on the floor in a mock argument, faking punches and even tickling.

Yabu tackled Daiki to the floor, pinning him to the ground with his knees, slipping wiggling fingers under his shirt, giggles escaping the bigger boy’s lips. Daiki cursed, laughing and writhing, trying to slip out from under Yabu. In his mirth he felt his handgun shift in the waistband of his pants. The Glock slipped, falling to the floor and getting kicked under the coffee table, unnoticed by the others. Daiki felt a spike of panic, and he scrambled for it. Hikaru however, picked it up first, his eyes meeting Daiki's own, and in that moment Daiki knew. Hikaru understood. He knew everything. Hikaru jumped on him, pretending to tickle him as he slipped the handgun back into the waistband of Daiki's pants, his lips grazing his ear as he whispered

"It's coming. The Kumi-cho's punishment is coming." His words made Daiki's blood run cold. Suddenly, he didn't want to be there. He felt ill, nauseous. He pulled away, excusing himself to the bathroom, instead running upstairs to his bedroom where Inoo was flopped on his bed, back resting on his sheets, arms up, a book in hand. Daiki immediately crawled up next to him, resting his head on one of Inoo's skinny biceps. Inoo put his book down, glancing at Daiki in surprise.

"What's up?" Inoo was already shifting, pulling Daiki closer. Daiki let out a shaky breath, Hikaru's words ringing in his ears._ It's coming. The Kumi-cho's punishment is coming. It's coming. It's coming._

"Inoo-chan...I..." The gun was digging into Daiki's back, as if reminding him that it wasn't going away. He knew Inoo could tell how he was feeling, his friend murmuring a gentle "Shh, its okay." and taking Daiki's hand, intertwining their fingers, his thumb making comforting circles on the back of Daiki's own. It had always been like this. Inoo had always been there when Daiki needed comfort most, had always been trustworthy, the one person Daiki could let his walls down with. Inoo sighed, his breath tickling Daiki's eyelashes.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" Daiki pursed his lips, shutting his eyes, and in image of the Kumi-cho's stern look flooded his mind.

"I...I can't." Daiki could sense Inoo's shocked disappointment. Daiki didn't keep anything from Inoo.

"Maybe one day...I want to..trust me Inoochii, I do, but..." Inoo shifted so that he was lying on his side, and stroked Daiki's cheek with a long feminine finger.

"Okay Dai-chan. Just, cheer up. I hate to see you sad." Daiki nodded, wiggling closer, pushing his head into Inoo's side, and he listened as Inoo's breathing became calm, and Daiki knew he had fallen asleep. There was a soft knock on the door, and Ryutaro pushed it open, freezing when he saw Daiki and Inoo curled up together in Inoo's twin size bed. Feeling his heart sink in embarrassment Daiki sent a glare Ryu's way, wiggling out from between Inoo's arms and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and dragging the young boy out of the room.

"You're lucky Yamada didn't see that, you fucking idiot." Was the first thing out of Ryutaro's mouth. Daiki didn't really want to hear it.

"Inoo's just my friend."

"Hey, you don't need to tell me." Ryutaro’s words came out defensively, and he smiled a crooked smile.

"Anyway, dinner's ready. Do you want me to wake up Inoo, or just leave him be?" Daiki glanced back at the door unconsciously.

"Let him sleep." Ryutaro shrugged turning and walking back down the hall, a hand in his pocket. Daiki sighed, falling into step behind the younger boy, slipping into his seat at the dinner table. Dinner was as usual, everyone talking about the interesting points of their day, weird dreams they had, or jokes they'd heard. They all teased each other, laughing and joking. Daiki enjoyed it, completely forgetting Hikaru's warning. The meal ended, and the moment was ruined when Chinen stood up from the table, announcing

"Daiki, come see me in my office." The little Kumi-cho sauntered into the aforementioned room, and Hikaru and Takaki caught Daiki's eye. Yabu, who was standing nearby, put a hand on Daiki's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. The bottom dropped out of Daiki's stomach, but he kept his face void from any reaction. The others hadn't noticed the tension in the air, chattering on, Yamada among them. Daiki pulled out of Yabu's grasp, pretending he didn't need the comfort, and strolled in after Chinen, shutting the door behind him. The Kumi-cho was sitting at his desk, hands ominously folded in front of him. Daiki took the seat on the other side of the desk, and he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

"Do you have the item I gave you last time you were in here?" Chinen was cold, and Daiki nodded, putting the Glock on the desk. Chinen nodded, leaning back in his chair.

"Good. The time has come for you to carry out your punishment for provoking the Wakaba into a surprise attack. You are to be in the alley behind love hotel _Hotel Charmed Mitsuko_ tonight at midnight." Daiki nodded, putting the Glock away.

"What is my task?" The Kumi-cho pulled one of his desk drawers open, pulling a photo out of it and slapping it down on the table.

"This is the problem. It needs to be eliminated." Chinen announced, and Daiki picked it up, slipping the picture into his pocket without looking at it, and standing.

"It will be done." Chinen nodded, and gestured to the door. Daiki bowed, and exited the room without another word. The rest were surrounding the kitchen table, a seven way poker game in progress. He sat himself down on the stairs, pulling the polaroid out of his pocket, examining the image. Immediately Daiki's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't been prepared for this. The photo was taken without the subject’s awareness, he was smiling, grocery bags in his hands. Daiki had seen him before. The cashier at the coat shop. But what had he done to deserve the wrath of their Kumi? He had seemed like an innocent katagi, happy with his quiet little life. A life that was about to end. Daiki slipped the picture back into his pocket, and checked the time. He had two more hours. He sighed leaning his head against the wall, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling churning in his stomach. There was a creek, and he looked up to see a bleary eyed Inoo stumbling down the stairs. When Inoo caught sight of Daiki he smiled, plopping down next to him and burying his face in Daiki's neck, eyes drooping shut.

"I'm so tired, Dai-chan..." Inoo sounded as though he was still half asleep. Daiki swallowed his internal hurricane of emotions, patting his friend on the head.

"Then go back to bed."

"I can't. I'm too hungry. My tummy won't let me." Inoo declared. Daiki sighed.

"Inoochii, you're supposed to be a badass yakuza; badass yakuza don't say 'tummy'." Daiki's words were met with giggles.

"C'mon, go get some food then." Daiki said, poking Inoo repeatedly until his friend stood up, making his way down the last few steps and disappearing into the kitchen. Daiki followed behind him, making sure his friend found the leftovers before making his way over to the couch, not feeling social, his stomach churning. He was only there for a minute or two however, before he felt the heat of a warm body next to him, the couch cushion compressing as the person sank down into it. The scent of roses drifted over to him, and he knew who it was.

"What did the Kumi-cho want?" Yamada asked, head tilted toward Daiki. Daiki looked back at him, and his eyes caught on the deep warm brown orbs that were searching his face. He had to blink, and look away, forcing down the urge to do something stupid, like kiss him.

"He..." There was no way Daiki was telling him. "He just asked me to do something for him tonight." His nerves must have shown through in his voice, because Yamada didn't ask any more questions, instead giving Daiki a simple smile, his fingers gingerly making swirling patterns on Daiki's closest arm, the action a wonderful attempt at soothing him. They fell into silence, but Yamada's touch remained, and it smoothed the passage of time, until Daiki looked up, and found that it was time to go. His insides clenched up, and his throat prickled unpleasantly. Dread made him nauseous, and he stood, Yamada giving him a questioning glance. The younger boys face was filled with concern, and he said

"I'll go with you, Daiki." Yamada stood, and Daiki immediately felt a fresh wave of horror wash through him.

"NO!" He couldn't think of anything worse than Yamada accompanying him tonight. Anything but that. Yamada looked taken aback, eyebrows furrowing, and his eyes hardening slightly at the yell. Daiki took a deep breath, and he took in the perfection that was Yamada one last time, wishing that there was some way that he could just stay.

"Just...can I have a hug...before I go?" He felt awkward saying it, and Daiki knew that it wasn't a realistic request, but then Yamada stepped forward, tentatively putting his arms loosely around Daiki's shoulders. Daiki could feel him shaking, could sense how uncomfortable Yamada was with this, but he pulled him close anyway, feeling the toned body under his arms, the sweet scent of his hair, and he reveled in it for a moment, before pulling away and exiting the house, and leaving his heart behind in Yamada's arms, refusing to look back.

He made it to the alley ten minutes early, and he leaned against the back of the building, listening to the pulsing club music that was echoing from the night club two buildings down. His mind went numb as he waited, and time stood still, until he heard footsteps, and he looked, squinting in the dim light from various neon signs as a figure made its way down the alley. It was him. He took a deep breath, and Daiki pulled the gun from his waistband, releasing the safety. Before the man even saw him, he let off a shot. It missed, catching the man in the leg. He let out a curse, and began attempting to run, back the way he had come. Daiki couldn't let him get away.

Detached from the situation he watched, unable to stop himself, as his body ran after the man, as his hands grabbed him, slamming him against the wall, right next to the trash bins. The man begged for him to stop, screaming and crying, tears running down his cheek. Daiki saw himself raise the Glock up to the man’s forehead, and pull the trigger, the man going limp, a scream frozen on his lips, as his blood splattered across Daiki's raised arm, chest, and face. He tasted the blood on his lips, and the raw rusty liquid pulled him back into his body, and he looked down at the gun in his hand, at the man’s blood, sticky and wet and _warm_, and nausea overtook him, and he found himself emptying his stomach on the grimy pavement of the ally. His ears were ringing, deafening him, and he felt dirty. Disgusting.

He tried to wipe his hands off on his clothes, but it just smeared the blood around, and the scent of metal hit his nostrils, nauseating him once more. He swallowed the feeling, and ran, blindly, back into the deep thicket of abandoned buildings that hid their home. He doesn't realize that he's crying, harsh hot tears streaming down his face, and he wants to hide himself, bury himself and die. He runs until he hits the ocean, and almost frantically he scoops the water up, washing himself, washing away the blood. But no matter how hard he scrubs the imprint of the splatter still leaves a ghost upon his skin, burned into his retinas. No matter what he does, he can't come clean.

Finally, he calmed himself, logic took over for a moment, and he slipped the Glock back into his waistband, walking silently back home, his body exhausted. He didn't know how he made it there, all he knows is that he's pushing the door open as silently as possible, and that no one was awake. He crept up the stairs, pulled off his clothes and his body gave out, everything finally becoming too much, and he collapsed to the floor, where he falls asleep before he can even register what had happened.


	11. Chapter 11

Daiki woke to Inoo's face peering down at him, concern in his best friend's eyes.

"You didn't come back for a long time last night. Yamada said he was going to wait up for you, but he didn't see you come in." Daiki sat up, his body sore from sleeping on the floor, and he pretended to stretch, swallowing the lump in his throat, forcing himself to attempt a facade of normalcy.

"Oh, you worry too much." He grumbled, and Inoo sighed, grudgingly letting the matter drop.

"Are you coming down for breakfast?" At the question Daiki froze for a moment, the thought of having to go down and face everyone sending waves of dread down his spine.

"Nah, I'm not hungry. You go on without me." He busied himself with picking up the clothes he had strewn across the floor the night before, so that he wouldn't have to look at Inoo's face. Once the sound of the door clicking shut signaled his friends exit however, he slumped, looking down at the clothing in his hands. They were disgusting, dried blood and sweat and grime mashed into the fabric at the seams. Just looking at them made his skin crawl, and that soiled, dirty, disgusting feeling washed over him once more. Daiki wanted to burn them. He just threw them under his bed. He'd deal with them later. Clean. He wanted to be clean. To feel clean more than anything else. He stood up, and still only in his boxers, he padded down to the bathroom, locking the door, turning on the shower to its hottest temperature, and removing his underwear. He stared at himself in the mirror. Waves of disgust washed over him, and he was overpowered by self loathing.

He hated everything reflected back at him. The black mop of hair, matted with sweat. The chubby cheeks. The cold eyes. The raw muscular arms. The defined chest that held too many scars for a boy of sixteen. He wanted to destroy it. To attack it, as if his reflection was an adversary he could destroy with his own fists, leaving it bathing in its own blood, as if doing that would make this burning, disgusting hatred die in his chest. Unable to wash the feeling down, he simply pulled his gaze away, stepping into the boiling hot shower, the water hitting his skin and making him hiss in surprise and pain.

He took a deep breath and willed himself not to jump out or pull the temperature down to his usual level. He found the soap sitting in the corner of the bottom of the shower, and quickly got to work scrubbing himself, trying to wash the crawling, dirty feeling from his skin. He scrubbed, and rinsed, and scrubbed and rinsed again. He kept the assault on his skin until he was raw and tender, and even then he felt soiled and unclean, his soul disfigured and ugly inside of his chest. Numb, he stepped out, defeated by the monster. He avoided his reflection, quickly wrapping himself in towels, the rough fabric irritating his raw skin. He forced himself not to think, returning back to his bedroom and slipping on the first the he grabbed out of his dresser. He was slipping his belt through the loops of his jeans when there was a knock on the door. He froze, finding his voice in the back of his throat and taking a moment to pull it forward.

"Yeah?" He tried to sound normal, but the word still came out strangled. There was the sound of the doorknob clicking as it turned, and he looked over as Hikaru stepped in.

"The Kumi-cho wants you to come by his office." The words sounded normal, but Hikaru had this strange expression on his face that was similar to one of grief. One of regret. Was it pity? Perhaps.

"Sure." Daiki slipped a shirt on hastily, not liking how Hikaru was looking at him, hoping he would get the hint to leave. The older boy just stood in the doorway, silent, and Daiki made to squeeze by him when Hikaru's hand caught the crook of his elbow, making him freeze.

"Look, if you ever want to talk...I'm usually the one that takes care of...things like...like that, and..." Hikaru looked over at him, that same look in his eyes, and Daiki pulled away, pushing the stifling dirty feeling down his throat and pretending to ignore Hikaru's words, trudging down the stairs and making a beeline for Chinen's office, not giving anyone the chance to talk to him, hoping they wouldn't even notice him go by. He slipped into the room, finding Chinen already at his desk. The young boy looked up at him with those intelligent eyes, motioning for him to sit down. Daiki did, and as he did he announced

"The...problem. It was eliminated, sir." Chinen nodded smoothly, blinking at the slight hesitation in Daiki's voice.

"I will clean the gun and return it to you immediately." Daiki added, internally begging the Kumi-cho to take it back. He hated the thing.

"No." That one word made his heart sink. "Keep it. It's yours now. Besides..." Chinen gave him a meaningful glance. "You might need it again." Disgusting slimy dread curled around his stomach at the short sentence.

"...Yes sir." He bowed in his chair, hands on his knees. Chinen tucked his legs under his slight frame, sitting up taller, and he looked down at Daiki, studying him.

"I won't need anything more from you, Daiki." The dismissal was obvious. Daiki stood, bowed, and exited the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He stood just outside it, leaning against the wall, his head lolled back against the doorframe. He didn't feel, didn't think, and it wasn't until he heard the creak of someone walking upstairs that he remembered that he wasn't technically alone, and he jumped at the sound, eyes darting frantically for a way to escape. He didn't want to interact, didn't want to have to try and figure out how to act normal. An escape. He needed an escape. His eyes caught on a little plastic tube sitting on the kitchen counter. A lighter. Perfect. He crossed the rooms, scooping it up and slipping it into his pants pocket. Wary, he snuck up the stairs, feet treading lightly on the beige carpet, and to his relief he ran into no one on his way back to the bedroom he shared with Inoo.

He dropped to his hands and knees, crawling back under his bed and retrieving the clothes he had thrown there, the blood making them unpleasantly stiff in his hand. He would destroy those clothes. He stood, balling them up in his hand as he did so, trying to ignore the rust colored flakes that fell to the floor from the fabric. He had to get out of there. He pulled open the door, head peeking around the frame, his eyes darting about the hallway before he slipped out, tromping down the stairs without caution now, his main goal just reaching the other side of the front door. He wrenched it open, pulling it shut tight and looking up in shock when he found himself bathed in light.

Somehow the clear blue sky and the crisp autumn breeze seemed so contradictory. How could the world be so calm and beautiful when such terrible things, and such terrible people, were in it? It didn't seem like something that should be possible. He leaned back against the side of the building, pondering this for a moment, struck, but the motion pressed the exterior of the wall into the lighter's plastic frame, and it in turn dug into his body, reinforcing the sense of urgency he'd held previously. He balled the clothes tighter, and with wide strides he took off, losing himself in the maze of empty buildings that stretched the span of space between the cheap apartments that the poor disjointed families lived in, and their Kumi's underlings main housing, searching. He wasn't sure what he was looking for until he had found it.

The place was abandoned, decrepit, and old, and he walked up to it trying the knob on the front door. Locked. No matter. The window shattered easily, and he slipped through with caution, finding the place mostly empty, unremarkable, with some grayish-tan-white color painted on the walls and worn looking, creaking wooden boards covering the floor. He went from room to room until he found the kitchen. All of the cupboards were open, the laminate on the counter was peeling away in the corners and on the edges, and the sink was made of old white porcelain, dust covering everything. It was ugly, and it held an air of loneliness that mirrored some of the disgust in his heart. This place was fitting.

He placed the balled up clothing in the dusty sink, and for a moment the image of the cashier's terrified face swam to the front of his mind, and he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him. He fought it down, flicking the lighter open and drawing a flame, he bared his teeth as he let the edge of his shirt catch fire, the flames licking up the fabric, quickly spreading and rising, and he watched as the evidence of his crime was consumed. He had hoped there would be some relief in the action, but he didn't feel any different. He still felt helpless, and tainted, and frustration overwhelmed him, and he aimed a punch at the wall, his fist breaking through and leaving a crater in its wake. Damn it.

The room quickly filled with smoke, and he soon found himself coughing roughly, his eyes burning and watering, and cursing his own stupidity he left the house in a rush, hoping no one would find the charred remains of his clothes. He contemplated going back home, but that would mean having to interact with the other occupants of the house, and he knew he wanted to avoid that. Instead he numbly wandered the streets, avoiding all human contact, choosing to spend the hours trying to figure out what he would say to them once he did have to talk to them. Eventually evening fell, and he was alerted of his own hunger by the growling in his stomach. As the sun began burying itself into the city he made it back to his own front door, opening it to find warmth, the sound of content chatter, and the smell of good food waiting for him. When he pulled it open he heard calls of "Welcome back", and he swallowed the cowardice and stepped across the threshold to see all of his housemates sitting around the table, and he froze. He couldn't do this.

"C'mon Daiki, its nabe tonight." Hikaru announced, slipping his chopsticks into his mouth and chewing happily. Inoo patted the empty chair Daiki usually sat in. Daiki's mind whirred, flashes of blank nothingness leaving him feeling numb. Somehow, he found himself in the chair, and dinner recommenced. It was much the same as the night before, yet everything was different. Yesterday Daiki had found it easy to get swept up into the conversations and relax, but today he felt as if he was still covered in blood, his crime written all over his body, and he was removed, eating in silence, only nodding once or twice throughout the course of the meal. Once said meal was finished he made to escape to his room, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his own just as he was about to tear up the stairs, and he cursed inwardly, his eyes trailing down to the hand.

"Daiki." The sound of his name pulled his eyes to Yamada's face, and there was a hope in his eyes that pierced his chest as the younger boy asked

"Will you play chess with me for a while?" Oh the irony. Now, only once he's stripped of all sense of self indulgence, does he see that look, the one he's been hoping for and working to get for the past months. Only now, once he's finally destroyed any last shred of worthiness he'd had of standing by Yamada's side does Yamada give him that look. That angelic look full of pure caring and happiness, and hope, reserved just for that special someone. The one you care about more than anything else. Daiki took a moment and he searched those eyes, and the smile slipped a little from Yamada's face, before Daiki pulls away, and continued on his original path up the stairs to his room. Internally he was crying, and apologizing to Yamada for his actions; so contradictory, so out of place with how he had been acting for the past months. But on the outside he just stares at his wall, letting the emotions roll around inside of him, as long as they didn't leak out.

He eventually found that it was late enough to justify sleep, and he threw on his pajamas, crawling under his covers, and he willed himself not to think, already feeling drained, as he shut his eyes. As soon as his eyelids fluttered shut his mind reeled the murde, like a short movie stuck on loop. The man’s scream, the way Daiki had run after him, trapped him like an animal, the blood. At some point his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the door opening, Inoo quickly preparing for bed. Daiki forced himself to be still the whole time, feigning sleep. At some point during the pretending he must fall asleep, because he finds himself back in the alley behind Hotel Charmed Mitsuko, the cool air biting at his fingertips as he leaned against the back of the building, waiting. Dread filled him up like a bucket of rocks, but he watched himself, unable to stop as he killed the man once more. Just as he pulled the trigger, blood splattering his face, he jolts awake, eyes wide and chest heaving, and there were wretched sharp noises being sputtered out of his own mouth, and he realized that he's crying.

Time went by like this for twenty-one days.


	12. Chapter 12

It was just after dinner and Daiki had already retreated to the bedroom, the pit in his stomach making him feel hollow. He had taken to biting at the skin on his fingers, the pain a nice relief from this hatred and grieving he was bogged in. He was in the process of tearing off a large, raw flap from his ring finger when the door opened, and Inoo stepped in. Daiki froze. He hadn't allowed himself to be awake in a room with Inoo any longer than strictly necessary since....then. Inoo plopped his skinny frame down next to Daiki's, and spoke quietly

"Hey, Dai-chan." There was a silence, during which Daiki managed to completely remove the skin from his finger, blood pouring from the agitated open wound. He felt the texture of his skin on his tongue, all of the little ridges, before scraping it off with his teeth. The stuff was disgusting.

"Daiki...we're all worried about you._ I'm_ worried about you. Talk to me." There was a second, shorter pause. "Let me in—I'm your best friend! I want to help you." Help him? The damage had been done.

"You can't." His voice felt strange in his throat, as if it didn't belong there.

"Maybe I can though! I could find a way to help you. I want too. If you would just tell me what happened—"

"No. Just leave me alone."

"But Daiki—"

"Leave me the hell alone!"

"You know I just want to help you, why are you getting so—" Inoo was starting to get upset, Daiki could hear it in his voice, the shrill edge that only came when the older boy was about to cry. “What’s the matter with you?!”

"I don't want your help! I don’t need you, you _obnoxious bastard_. Fuck off." Daiki spat, knowing the last phrase would finish the job, and sure enough Inoo stormed out, slamming the door behind him, one feminine hand covering his tears. Daiki cursed to himself. Why had he done that? The last thing he wanted was to get Inoo to hate him, and yet...he was punishing himself. Driving away his best friend because he didn't think he deserved Inoo. Because he didn't. Because after everything Inoo had ever done for him he was still a terrible excuse for a human being. He didn't deserve Inoo's help, Inoo's attention. He should be left to die alone. These thoughts burned, rolling around and he found himself crying again, all of his vulnerability open and raw, and just like an angel, Yamada stepped in. Daiki didn't even see him until he was right there and before he knew it his face was buried in Yamada's shoulder, hands knotted in the younger boys white sweater, and he could feel warm palms on his back, tracing delicate circles, and after a while, as his crying started to get under control, it struck him that Yamada was letting him hold onto him like this, and amazement slipped its way into the hot pot of emotions swirling in his stomach.

"How can you...?" His voice was rough and croaky from all of the crying, and the words were barely a mumble, yet Yamada understood.

"I've been practicing, getting more used to human contact. I want to be able to be there for you...like you were for me."

"Like I was...what?"

"My nightmares. You saved me from them. Remember?" Oh. Daiki cries a bit more, but soon his tears are all dried up, and without warning his body shuts down, and he is thrown into sleep, the words _I love you_ frozen on his tongue.

_Daiki blinked. Whiteness stretched out everlasting, and at the sight of the nothingness he cursed, dread filling him up. He let his eyes trail down to the ground, searching for the ribbon. Sure enough it was there, and the first thing he noticed was that it had once again changed color. Now it was a deep, warm, beautiful shade of purple, and he let his gaze trail up it's length to where it was wrapped around his wrist. He inhaled sharply, shocked at the sight of his own hands. Blood was everywhere. The substance was smeared acrost his palms and knuckles, it had seeped into his shirt, and up the cuffs of his pants. His feet were covered in the stuff, as though he had waded through a lake of the terrible crimson liquid._

_He was broken out of his horrified stupor when the ribbon's silk length shifted on the ground, catching his eye. He looked up, and there far off in the distance, Yamada had appeared. He was running, the purple ribbon looping back behind him and trailing after him, and he was gaining, getting closer and closer. Panic swelled in Daiki's stomach, breaking and crashing over him like a wave, and he bolted, hoping that if he was fast enough Yamada somehow wouldn't catch him. He glanced back, over his shoulder, and he realized he was leaving a trail of bloody bare footprints in his wake. Shit. He ran faster, but it wasn't long before he was jerked back sharply, the ribbon around his wrist becoming taught, and the force of it pulled him off balance and brought him crashing to the ground. When had it gotten so strong? It was still taught, tugging on his arm, and he sat up, searching for a way to remove it from his wrist. As he struggled he sensed more than heard Yamada approaching, and within moments the younger boy was standing over him, their ribbon balled up in one hand, the other offered down to him._

_"Let me help you." Yamada's voice was calm, no fear or surprise in it, and Daiki looked up to see that his eyes portrayed the same calmness, and he tentatively reached out his hand, Yamada pulling him to his feet. When their skin touched he had expected to feel the rough stickiness of congealing blood in a thin layer between them, but all he felt was the soft pads of Yamadas palm, and once the younger boy had let go he looked down at the hands. Not only was Yamada's clean, his too was now clear of blood, as if there had never been any there to begin with. Yamada grabbed Daiki's other hand with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. It to became clean, purged of everything impure. Yamada opened his arms, as if for a hug, and he smiled, repeating_

_"Let me help you." Daiki just stood still, and Yamada stepped forward, placing a small, feathery light kiss on the tip of his nose before pulling him into a hug. Warmth radiated from Yamadas embrace, and Daiki felt his heart becoming just a fraction lighter._

Daiki woke the next morning with the feeling of blood on his face being replaced with the feel of lean taught muscle under a thin layer of fabric, and he slowly began to piece his situation together. He had fallen asleep on Yamada's chest, the younger boy had his arms loosely around Daiki's shoulders, and his head resting against the closest wall, still sound asleep. His eyes found the clock. It was just barely past four in the morning. He lay there for a few minutes, and it gradually began to dawn on him that he needed to use the restroom. Slowly, carefully, Daiki shifted, slithering out from Yamada's grasp and pulling himself to his feet, pausing as Yamada shifted slightly, head lolling against the wall, before backing out of the room, pulling the door shut behind himself. He let his bare feet pad down the dark hall, listening to the quiet, but when he got to the bathroom door he froze. The door was shut, light shining from the crack at the bottom. Someone was in there. He had two options: wait for the person to get out, or just pretend that he hadn't seen the light at all. He thought them over, the sound of blood rushing through his body loud and distracting in the dark, before his hand found the knob, and he pushed the bathroom door open.

Hot air rushed through the gap, and his eyes took in the scene before him. Inoo was standing in front of the sink, towel around his waist, hair still wet from the shower he had obviously just gotten out of, and he was examining his neck, craning his head at an awkward angle to see it in the mirror, his hands brushing his own skin. It took him a moment to realize he was being intruded upon, and once he did he jumped back from the mirror, hand immediately covering his neck, embarrassment and a trace of fear flitting across his face. Daiki muttered the obvious apology, and Inoo just nodded, hand still covering the left side of his neck, and he let himself out, Daiki turning and watching him go, suspicious of his friend's strange behavior, and his eyes caught on a group of little red crescent marks indented into Inoo's lower back before the skinny boy turned the corner, disappearing into the dark hallway. The implications of those little marks sent Daiki's mind flying into overdrive. Fingernails. He remembered, months ago Inoo had asked about similar marks on his own back.

_"You have blood...little marks, like fingernails...You didn't have sex with Takaki did you?!"_

_"WHAT?! NO! What the hell?!"_

_"Well, it's just that I remember seeing marks, like that, when...when he'd sleep with someone! On his back! And you didn't come in last night! And he's seductive!"_

_"He's seductive?! How?"_

_"He—he's got a nice face, and a nice body, and he talks smooth, and he's...experienced."_

Horror washed over him as the notion washed over him. His mind rejected the concept; Inoo wouldn't do that! He wouldn't sleep with Takaki...he couldn't have. Could he? He had to know. He finished up in the bathroom quickly, mind on overdrive, and he returned back to the bedroom, walking in just as Inoo was pulling on a shirt, the collar popping over his head. As his friend adjusted the bottom Daiki caught sight of a reddish bruise-like mark on the left side of Inoo's throat, and the dread was heightened slightly. He nearly confronted his friend right then, but at the last second he remembered Yamada, still sleeping peacefully in the corner, and he restrained himself. Inoo looked over at him, the embarrassed look washing over his face when he saw Daiki, and Daiki just grabbed his friend by the wrist, dragging him out of the room and downstairs to the living room. Inoo stumbled the whole way, muttering curse words under his breath, and once Daiki had finally let him go he fiercely whispered

_"What the _hell_, Dai-chan?!"_ He was glaring, confusion and anger flashing in his eyes.

"Did you sleep with Takaki?!"

"What?" The anger in Inoo's voice had vanished. Daiki took a deep breath, reiterating the question.

"Did you have sex with Takaki?" Inoo just stared, opening and closing his mouth a few times like a fish out of water, one hand subconsciously reaching for the hickey on his neck, his fingers brushing against the skin. That was enough confirmation for Daiki; he found his own hands cradling his face for a moment, before he managed to voice out

_"Why?!_"

"I...well...I needed to...stop thinking...for a while." Inoo paused, brows furrowing. "It's not like I'm the only one, Hikaru and Yabu have done it when they need a break from the world. And he and Kumi-cho used to sleep together all the time. He offered, no strings attached, and I took it." Daiki processed all of that information, trying to understand.

"But...what did you need to stop thinking about? I don't understand." Inoo sighed, running a hand through his drying hair.

"It’s because of you, Dai-chan. The past few weeks you've become so distant...and so cold...it's been really hard on me. I've been trying to be there for you and act like nothing was wrong, but tonight...the argument...it was too much. I couldn't take it anymore. Takaki comforted me. He was there for me. He helped me forget, for a little while." There was a heavy silence. Regret over his treatment of Inoo weighed down on Daiki's back like a physical pain. This was his fault. When Inoo spoke again, Daiki could hear the tears building in his tone.

"I've felt like I was losing you." They lapsed back into silence, Daiki knowing he owed Inoo an explanation.

"But...you've never...had sex before. Have you?" Daiki couldn't help but ask. Inoo shook his head.

"Takaki was my first." A pit of terror at the thought formed in Daiki's throat, and he had to fight it to get the next words out.

"Inoo...I killed someone." Now that he had started the confessing came tumbling out in a rush. "A store clerk. The Kumi-cho had given me a gun months before, and he ordered me to...I didn't even know the guy, but...I killed him. He's dead now. It...it was...I...I've been avoiding everyone since then. And I didn’t want to tell you, and now…That’s why…that’s why…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Oh Dai-chan..." Inoo was shaking, tears on his cheeks, but he limped over to Daiki, pulling him in for a hug.

"It's okay. We still love you anyway. I'll always stand by you, no matter how many people you kill; because I know the real you. And the real you is pretty amazing." Inoo whispered, his arms tightening around Daiki's shoulders. The comfort those words provided washed over Daiki like a tsunami, and he found tears of relief staining his own cheeks, his arms wrapping themselves around Inoo's thin frame. They stood like that for a long time, before giving in to exhaustion, and collapsing right there on the couch, falling asleep draped across each other. For the first time in a long while, Daiki managed a few hours unhaunted and dreamless.


	13. Chapter 13

Daiki woke to a little finger jabbing him in the cheek. He opened his eyes to find Chinen staring down at him, the Kumi-cho retracting his hand and announcing

"Phone call." Before sauntering away. Daiki's eyes found the clock. It was six in the morning. The house was still quiet, and it was very likely that everyone else was still asleep. Who the hell could be calling him? He pulled himself up off of the couch, shaking Inoo awake as he did so. Inoo just groaned, blearily opening his eyes.

"Go get in bed with Takaki or something. Cuddle for a while." Daiki murmured, and Inoo, obviously still half asleep, nodded, just rolling over. He sighed, shuffling over to the kitchen and picking up the old cord phone they kept there as the Kumi's main phone and placing it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Arioka-san, I have the items you wanted embroidered completed." _What was this voice talking about?_

"Hah?"

"The-the two jackets you had dropped off—I have completed the embroidery you had asked for. When would you like to come and pick them up?" _Oh, the jackets from the tailors._

"I'll be there in an hour or so." He decided, barely giving the man time to acknowledge this information before hanging the phone back up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Without further ado he went through the mechanical tasks of preparing for his day: taking a shower, brushing his teeth, and changing into clean clothes before slipping out the door, dawn just beginning to show in the sky as he slipped out. He immediately felt the chill of the air seep through his now too-thin feeling clothes. He thanked God he was going to go and pick up his new leather jacket. He wandered briskly through the fluorescent lit streets, making his way to the tailors and flitting inside immediately sighing at the relief of the heat despite himself. He stood in the entry for a few moments, just until he stopped shivering, before making his way to the counter. The man looked up from a catalog depicting various silk ties, his face going slightly paler than previously at the sight of Daiki.

"A-arioka-san, how can I...?" The man trailed off, question fading away, and he simply reached under the counter, placing two clothing boxes on top of the desk. Daiki reached for them, tucking them under his arm and retreating to a corner, where a group of mirrors stood, allowing one to examine ones figure. He set the boxes down, slipping off the lid of the first to find his own jacket folded nicely and wrapped in paper. He pulled it out, flipping it over to examine the new stitching. It was beautiful, the Kitagawa clan's crest in the center, circled by a fierce dragon, the dragons colors and design similar to the tattoo on his back. He slipped it on, immediately happy with the results, and examined his reflection in the mirror.

With a satisfied nod he closed the now empty box and set it aside, reaching for the second box. He opened it to find the other jacket wrapped similarly, and he carefully pulled the jean jacket out, unfolding it. It had a small version of the crest hidden under one of the lapels, and the back was depicting a dragon wrapped around a piece of paper, the phrase 'Let me be the one you turn to.' written there. It was just right. He tucked it back into the box, slipping the lid on tightly before exiting the shop, immediately noting just how much warmer he was in his new jacket.

The second thing brought to his attention was just how hungry he was, a gurgled growl emitting from his stomach. He crossed the street to the doughnut shop, getting himself half a dozen and sitting down in one of the bright plastic chairs by the window, the piping hot sugary dough filling his mouth. He looked out the window at the huge building around the corner, eyes catching on the sign by the front entrance. Keiichi Koukou. The school was usually bustling with students, but the past month it had been empty, closed for a complete renovation. Daiki had swindled quite a few naïve girls that had attended that high school. The lack of them was putting a lull in their Kumi's swindling operations. He watched the sky lighten, and it suddenly occurred to him that the sun would set from behind that building. A plan began forming in his mind. After everything, now that he had the jacket, it was all perfect. He was finally going to tell Yamada how he felt.

Almost two weeks of preparation flew by, and in those weeks Daiki gradually found himself returning to a state of normalcy. He talked more, relaxing when he was with his housemates. All except for Takaki, whom he could now barely look in the eye. Aside from that awkward situation he was feeling much better, his awful nightmares becoming more sparse as time passed. He had stopped carrying the gun, Hikaru had cleaned it for him, and it was hidden in the bottom drawer of his bedside table in a box. He had spent almost all of his daylight hours searching for the perfect props for his confession, coming back for dinner every night and finding himself comfortable once more when he sat down in his spot at the table, before going back out at night, secretly watching―to his horror―‘chick flicks’, fancying it as research.

The highlights of his days were the fleeting moments when he would catch Yamada watching him, a little light in his eye, and a small smile on his lips. He looked so stunning like that, and Daiki could feel his heart soaring, pumping endorphins to his brain and pulling an uncontainable grin to his own face. And finally, after hours of brainstorming and careful preparation, he was all ready. Now to just get Yamada out of the house...without his coat. He was returning home, and there was a slight twinge of anticipated nervousness in his stomach as he broke out in a run, trying to act frantic as he burst through the door, immediately scanning the room for Yamada. The younger boy was flopped on the couch, he had been playing mahjong with Takaki, Ryutaro, and Yabu, but now they were all looking at Daiki, surprise pasted on all of their faces. He didn't stop to take a breath.

"Ryosuke―" Oops! He never called Yamada 'Ryosuke' to his face. Only in his dreams, or when he was talking to Inoo about the younger boy. He mentally winced, but he barreled on. "―come, hurry! There's no time!" He grabbed Yamada's wrist, pulling him up and out the door, Yamada just barely grabbing the knob and pulling it shut behind them as they left, his whole body jerking with slight resistance, and Daiki slowed for a millisecond before picking the speed back up, the cold wind whipping at his face and hands, and he nearly regretted not giving Yamada time to grab a coat, but the other boy picked up his pace, matching his stride side by side with Daiki's, the warm tones of the sun shining between the building in blocks, painting them in gold as they ran.

"Why are we running?!" Yamada asked, immediately followed by the question

"Where are we going?!" Luckily the abandoned school building was In sight, so he pointed.

"There!" They reached it within the minute, and he propelled himself over the fence, Yamada tentatively following him, questions falling from his lips that Daiki pretended he couldn't hear, instead he just dragged the younger boy up the exterior fire escape to the roof of the building, clambering noisily up the metal stairs and sighing in relief at the sight of the magnificent swathes of red and gold strewn across the sky. The picnic blanket was all set, basket full of hopefully still warm food on one side, and the candles, still unlit, were all still standing in their various perches. Perfect. He stepped forward into the scene, reaching down to pick up the clothes box containing Yamada's new jacket. As he did so Yamada let out a meek and confused

"What's going on?" Daiki stood back up, and smiled.

"I wanted to apologize for you having to see me the way I've been the past few weeks. And...so...this is for you. All of it. But first...you must be cold, so...here." He held out the box, Yamada gingerly taking it and pulling off the lid. He pulled out the jacket, eyes wandering over the detailing with that still star-struck look, and he broke out into a huge smile, swinging it over his own shoulders and zipping himself into it. He wrapped his arms around Daiki, enveloping him in a hug, his cold nose burying into his collar bone.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Yamada assured him, and Daiki felt the rush of happiness again. Everything was continuing to plan.

"Are you hungry? I think the food is still hot..." They sat down on the blanket, Daiki pulling out the dishes of hayashi rice and two spoons, offering one of each to Yamada. He took them, digging in with a bashful grin. He hummed contentedly, a grin at the taste blossoming on his lips. Daiki handed him a carry mug full of tea, adjusting himself so that they sat shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the town, and they ate, watching the sun set below the skyline, small talk and gentle supposedly-accidental brushes of skin filling the time, and once they had finished the meal Daiki took his lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and standing back up, crouching over each candle, lighting them carefully before returning to Yamada's side, the beautiful boy slipping one of Daiki's arms over his shoulders, entwining their cold fingers and leaning into his side as he looked up at the sky, stars beginning to peak out of the blanket of deep blue covering them.

"Daiki...this is amazing. You're the most stunning person I've ever met." Yamada told him, snuggling a bit closer. Daiki let his eyes travel over the beautiful, perfect face, and he reveled in the satisfaction and pure joy he got from just sitting like this, and the words slipped out.

"I love you."

The change was immediate. Yamada's body stiffened, his gaze falling from the stars to the dark concrete of the roof, and he shifted, letting Daiki's arm slide off of his shoulders, shifting his weight so that he was no longer leaning against Daiki's side.

"Don't say that. Please Daiki...don't." Daiki was already feeling a sting between his lungs, the implied rejection not quite sinking in. One thing caught his attention though. The tone Yamada used relayed nothing but fear. They sat in an awkward, fidgety, terrible silence for a moment, before he asked

"But why? Why don't you want me to say I love you?" His question brought a shiver spiraling down Yamada's frame, and the younger boy swallowed, pulling his knees up to his chest as if to block out the cold, and it looked as if he was just going to clam up.

"Please tell me. Did something happen?" Yamada exhaled, his cheeks puffing out as he sighed, and began his explanation with a question.

"Because...Daiki, do you remember how I came to the Kumi?"

"Yeah...we took you." Yamada blinked in surprise at the wording, but continued.

"Kind of. I had already been taken. When I was little, before the Kumi, I had a friend that stuck by me all of the time; Kamiki Ryunosuke. We'd share our toys and have sleepovers, and we went to the same school, so we would see each other every day. We were inseparable. Then, halfway through our fifth year of elementary school Kamiki's family moved away. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. I didn't hear from him for months...until I took the train into town by myself one day, and by coincidence ran into him at the mall. At first I was excited, but he had changed. He had a large group of intimidating companions, and he was loud and rude to strangers. But he seemed happy to see me, and so when he asked me to get lunch with him I accepted immediately.

"He...he told me all about his new life. He had run away from home, and had a new group of friends that he lived with. Kamiki had joined the Wakaba clan. He asked me to join him, and when I refused he got angry. It scared me so I ran away, but by that point he had already gotten my contact information. He bombarded me with emails, and texts, and at first it was easy to ignore him but, over time he wore me down." Yamada sighed, shutting his eyes and frowning. Daiki wanted to rub comforting circles on his back, but he decided against it, not wanting to push Yamada into any physical contact when he was already upset.

"It was when he found me at home that I broke. It was night, and I snuck out to confront him. At first it was much the same as our lunch meeting, but when I asked him why he wanted me to join him in his yakuza group so badly he told me...he told me that it was because he loved me." Yamada's voice choked and his breathing became ragged as emotion threatened to overwhelm him, but he continued. "He said he loved me more than anything in the world, and that he needed me. He had to have me. It scared me, I didn't love him, and I ran away, hoping that if I just got far enough he couldn't catch me. But he did. After only a few minutes of running he caught me in an alley and pulled out a knife, putting it to my throat. He told me that he'd kill me if I didn't do what he said..." Yamada sniffed, a single sob falling from his lips, and Daiki was numb, his mind reeling from the information.

"Kamiki took me back to the Wakaba house and locked me in a single room, not allowing me out for any reason. I stayed there for almost a year before I was finally freed by you guys." He took in a big, shaky breath, exhaling slowly.

"But...Kamiki was the only other person that ever told me he loves me, and...I'm scared. I'm so afraid that something will happen again...I don't want to go through something like that ever again. I'd die first. "

As Daiki had been listening he had felt the indignance and anger churning and growing inside of him, and it wasn't until Yamada looked his way, concern immediately furrowing his brow, that he realized his hands had furled into fists, and he was shaking, his whole body quaking with emotion. Yamada laid a tentative hand on his bicep, and he heard himself murmur

"I have to go."

"No. No you don't."

"Yes I do. I need to go find this guy." He was already strategizing, figuring out just how he could get his gun without arousing suspicion.

"What're going to do to him?" Daiki's silence spoke for itself. Yamada's words became a bit more frantic.

"Listen Daiki, no. Look at me." He strengthened his grip, forcing Daiki to focus on his face. He had tears in his eyes.

"You can't. You're just starting to get better, and no matter how angry you are now, if you do that, once you calm down it will destroy you." He took a shaky breath. "I don't want to see someone else I care about wither away because of me. Especially not you." The sincerity and the meaning behind the last sentence put a snuff to most of his anger, and he gave up his thoughts of murder for the night, instead opening his arms tentatively for a hug. Yamada slips up to him, wrapping his arms around Daiki's back, his head nestled against Daiki's chest. Daiki buried his nose in Yamada's hair, smelling the amazing smell of roses, and takes deep breaths, the scent intoxicating, flushing out the remnants of his anger, and they sat there like that for what felt like almost an hour, just holding each other. Eventually, Daiki had to ask.

"Do you truly think I would do something like he did?" His question made Yamada shift, sitting up properly and facing Daiki, his hands relaxing on Daiki's chest. He was so close. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss him. Daiki drove the notion from his mind, just Yamada mumbled

"No—I mean...I don't want to. My rational side says you wouldn't, but...I'm still afraid."

"Yama-chan...are you too afraid of something that I can _promise_ will never happen to give me a chance?" He was nearly begging, hoping against hope that the younger boy would find it in his heart to let him in. After an antagonizing, long, pause Yamada said

"Let....let me think about it." Daiki nodded, saying

"Take all the time you need.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next thirty-six hours were the longest of Daiki's life. He couldn't focus on anything. And eventually he gave up on his attempts to pick up girls, play cards, or even eat, instead just sitting anxiously on the couch, the anticipation and dread making him slightly queasy. Day turned to evening, and finally, putting a stop to the numb time passage, Yamada sauntered down the stairs, looking stunning in a pair of purple sweat pants and a white wife beater, his hair damp from the shower, his tattoo stark against his pale skin. His face was free of emotion, and he sat down next to Daiki on the couch. Daiki's eyes scoured his face for any hint to his decision, and Yamada leaned in, his mouth by Daiki's ear, and whispered

"Yes." He pulled back, and Daiki looked him in the eyes.

"Yes?"

"Yes, I can give you a chance, Daiki." Daiki felt pure euphoria wash over him, and he could feel himself grinning, stretching his cheeks to their limit. Yamada pulled him in for a hug, the scent of his hair intoxicating, and they snuggled there on the couch for a few minutes before dinner was called. They stood together, joining the group at the table, and dinner went just as it usually did, but Daiki couldn't hold it in for long, and he announced

"We're together." He smiled, eyes locking on Yamada's face. "Yamada and I are together now." There was a silence, then Hikaru started clapping, and he declared

"Congratulations. That's awesome guys." They were met with other congratulatory remarks, and multiple 'about time's from their housemates, but Inoo remained silent, and after a few moments he stood, muttering a quick

"Bathroom." and exiting the kitchen, heading straight for the front door and leaving the house completely. Takaki excused himself, chasing after him. Daiki watched them go, confused, and everyone had awkward expressions on their faces, the table falling silent for a moment, before Hikaru pushed through the dense space now hovering over them and picked the conversation back up, and at his urging they returned to their previous state, ignoring the two empty chairs. After dinner Inoo and Takaki returned, Inoo with red cheeks and puffy eyes, and he dragged Daiki aside, pulling him into a tight hug, and he said

"I'm so happy for you." Daiki grinned, standing on his tiptoes to put his chin over Inoo's shoulder, whispering back

"Thanks. You're the best."

Soon the table was cleared and cards were pulled from pockets and they wasted the night in laughter and various games, and Daiki couldn't help but hold Yamada's hand under the table. For the next twenty-four hours everything would be perfect. The perfection was shattered however, with the bringing of the next evening, everyone preparing for dinner when Hikaru opened the front door only to collapse to his knees there in the entryway, one hand clutching his thigh, blood all down his jeans, small cuts covering his arms. Immediately Yabu was there, and with Ryutaro he got Hikaru over to the couch. They took scissors from the kitchen, beginning to cut away a part of his jeans to get to the injury, while Chinen asked

"What happened?!"

"It was one of those Wakaba..." Hikaru was breathing hard, his face screwed up in pain as Yabu disinfected the wound. They all got a better look at it. A gash, deep and long traced up his thigh, and it was obvious what exactly had happened: knife fight. Yabu pulled out the needle and thread, and while Ryutaro got to work on cleaning the smaller cuts on his arms Yabu pulled Hikaru's leg out straight to ensure it would heal correctly, and threaded the needle. Hikaru took a deep breath, trying to brace himself for the familiar pain of the needle, but he still flinched slightly as it dipped into his flesh. Chinen frowned, and announced

"Everyone to the kitchen now. Ryutaro, take over the stitching for Yabu, he needs to hear this." Ryu shot a confused look the Kumi-cho's way, but set down his cloth and took the needle from Yabu's fingers, Daiki taking Yamada's hand as they herded into the kitchen, giving it a tight squeeze. They circled around the table, and Chinen announced

"This is despicable. We're taking revenge. Tonight. Everyone get prepared, we leave in twenty minutes."

"What about Ryu?" Yabu input.

"And Hikaru, we can't leave him here alone." Yamada said, glancing back at the pair on the couch. The little Kumi-cho glanced back as well, before stating

"Ryu is going to stay here with Hikaru while we go. I'll fill them in while you all go get ready. Now, go." Everyone scattered, mainly to their rooms to change, others to locate various knives. Daiki pulled Yamada aside, immediately saying

"Please don't go."

"What?!"

"Don't go on the raid. I'll talk to the Kumi-cho, just...please."

"No way! We need all the people we can get, and besides, I'm a member of this Kumi, and I want to go out and beat those bastards for what they did!" His face was set, determined, and Daiki sighed, worry washing over him, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with some logical reason for Yamada to stay behind. All he could come up with was

"Please?"

"No Daiki, you're being ridiculous." Yamada said, shaking his head slightly. He was just about to brush past Daiki to go to his room when Daiki threw out one last ditch

"I love you." Yamada froze for a moment before continuing on his way up the stairs. Daiki let out a second sigh, watching him go. As he did his eyes caught on Chinen and Ryutaro talking by the couch. Ryu looked annoyed and slightly angry, while Chinen looked firm, a slight worry in his eyes that mirrored the way Daiki felt. He must be telling Ryu that he couldn't come on the raid. Without further thought Daiki marched up the stairs to change. He opened to door to find Inoo already nearly dressed in his suit, and he pulled open the closet, silently changing into his own. As he was tucking in his shirt he spotted the butterfly knife he kept in his sock drawer and pulled it out, throwing it to Inoo.

"Here, you lost yours right?" Inoo caught it deftly, twirling it between nimble fingers.

"Thanks."

They all met in the kitchen, Yamada emerging in his black suit, his katana over one shoulder. Ryutaro sat in the living room, needle and thread in hand, watching them with slightly resentful, resigned, worried frustration. Daiki took in Hikaru's bloody form, the sight filling him with the raw anger he needed. Chinen led them out of their home and into the night. Once the Wakaba main hideout came into sight all organization went out the window and everyone simply ran at the building, busting down doors with harsh yells. Daiki started off with Yamada, but soon amidst the confusion they were separated. For a while he was alone, aside from the numerous Wakaba underlings he knocked to the floor like flies. Eventually however he ran into Yuto, and the skinny boy announced

"We're retreating! Head back!"

"Where's Yamada?!"

"Takaki's got him, now let's go!" They headed back the way they had come, and it took a few minutes of fighting, but they managed to make it back outside. From there they found themselves alone, so they simply ran, making it back home. In the light of the street lamps Daiki could see a thin gash on the younger boys neck, just behind his ear, and he had a split lip, but aside from that he looked pretty good. Daiki prayed that Yamada's injuries were that minimal. They entered the house to see Ryutaro standing with Yabu and Inoo around Hikaru, who was still on the couch. Yabu looked as if he had broken some fingers, he was cradling his hand and cursing lowly to himself at Ryutaro's every attempt to touch it. Inoo looked well, and he was fiddling with the butterfly knife, letting it fly from hand to hand with ease, its pieces opening and shutting gracefully.

"Is anyone else back yet?" Yuto asked as they joined the group. Inoo shook his head and they just sat in silence, except for the curses spewing from Yabu's lips, and Ryutaro's occasional 'Shut the hell up and take it'. Hikaru was just about to jump into the mix, despite his stitched up leg, when the door was pushed open and the rest of them spilled in. Chinen was unscathed, the little Kumi-cho breathing hard. Takaki and Yamada however, weren't looking so good. They were both hunched over, Takaki gripping his shoulder, blood on his hands, Yamada's arms wrapped around his torso. While everyone else went to his aid, Daiki immediately rushed to Yamada's side, the little boy's brow furrowed in pain, his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Ryosuke, what happened?!" Yamada took a deep breath, muttering

"Broken ribs." Panic filled Daiki up, and he heard himself muttering

"Oh god. Oh no...what are we going to do? We have to...oh god." Yamada sent a surprised glare his way, the thought are you seriously doing this right now?! all over his face. He took a second deep breath.

"Daiki...help me to bed." Daiki felt stupid. Bed! Of course! Yamada needed the perfect bed...Hikaru's! No, Hikaru was using it. He'd just take him to his own bed. Yes. The thought of Yamada in his bed made him smile just a bit, and he looped an arm under Yamada's legs, pulling him up and positioning him bridal style in his arms. Yamada cursed lowly at the movement, but he clutched at Daiki's lapels, burying his face in Daiki's shoulder all the way up the stairs. Once they got to the top it was made apparent why. He had tears streaming down his cheeks, his face was red and blotchy, and little silent sobs were escaping his quivering lips. There at the top of the stairs Daiki froze, staring down at him, feeling him bundled up in his arms.

"This is why I asked you not to go. I would do anything so that you wouldn't have to feel like this..." He murmured. Yamada blinked, looking up at him through watery eyes. "It's so scary. This time it was only your ribs, but what about next time, or the time after that? This is why you shouldn't go! What if it's worse? What if you die? What am I supposed to do without you?!" Yamada let out a little chuckle, letting go of Daiki's suit jacket with one hand to wipe the tears away, and he smiled a weak smile.

"Daiki."

"Yeah?"

"I love you too." Daiki just stood there, the words leaving him numb, and Yamada put and arm around Daiki's neck, pulling his head down and gently pressing their lips together. The sensation was amazing, tingles running over him, and a swooping, euphoric yet terrified sensation mixing in his stomach. The moment seemed endless and yet fleeting, and all too soon Yamada had pulled away. He was blushing, but he tried to act stern as he looked up from his position in Daiki's arms, and demanded

"Now, please take me to bed."

Daiki grinned, and said

"Anything for you, Ryosuke." and the world was perfect.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last little bit is just an epilogue! Thank you for reading!

A twenty year old Daiki sighed, sitting up on the couch, the warm glow of the lamps reminding him that outside it was dark, the blackness of night, or perhaps by this point early morning, covering everything. Yamada had sent the new kid, Keito, back home with the message that he was going to be out late. Daiki hoped it wouldn't be too much longer, he didn't like the sound of the rain on the roof. If the storm got any worse he figured he would have to go out and find Yamada himself. As if on cue the front door opened, and two soaked cardboard boxes were shoved through the space, rain spilling in with them, quickly followed by Yamada, who whipped the door shut as soon as his body was on the dry side of the threshold. The two boxes had been Yamada's reason for staying out so late: he'd gotten a chair for the new kid to sit in at the dinner table. He was so thoughtful. Daiki grinned, standing and going to him, tilting his head in for a kiss, and when he did he can smell the rain, and the sweet scent of roses that Yamada always smelled like, comforting and intoxicating and perfect. His lips however, tasted gooey, and like imitation watermelon—sickeningly sweet. Lip gloss. He must have been out swindling earlier.

"How was it?" He asked, wrapping his arms around Yamada's wet form, pulling the boy as close to him as he could, feeling him, his warmth.

"Fine. I don't want to talk about her right now though." Yamada brushed the topic off, instead pulling out of Daiki's arms just enough to lace their lips together in a second kiss. It was perfect, aside from the stupid watermelon, and Daiki couldn't help but mention it.

"You taste like lip gloss." He tried to sound annoyed, but he was content, if not overjoyed, because Yamada was there in his arms. He let his hands slip under the fabric of Yamada's shirt, the feeling of the cold, damp, smooth skin of his lower back under Daiki's fingertips sending chills up his arms. Yamada let out a little sigh, and leaned against Daiki, burying his face into Daiki's shoulder and stilling, resting there for a drawn out moment. Daiki felt his heart beat in his chest, and buried his nose in Yamada's hair, giving the top of his head a gentle kiss. Yamada slowly pulled back, and Daiki took the liberty of swinging him off of his feet, cradling him bridal style in his arms.

"You look exhausted, let's go to bed...we can take care of the chair in the morning." He climbed the stairs, Slowly so as to not jostle Yamada so much, and Yamada just fisted his hands in Daiki's shirt front, ear to Daiki's heart. Daiki carried him all the way to their bedroom, even managing to get the door open with ease. He set Yamada down on their queen sized bed, and the boy stretched like a cat, grinning up at him from his place atop their sheets.

"Thanks Dai-chan." Daiki sat next to him, and Yamada pulled himself to his feet saying

"I need to get out of these wet clothes and into my pajamas..." He turned, sending a warning look Daiki's way.

"Don't peek while I'm changing." He said, and Daiki grinned at the familiar phrase, sighing dramatically, and nodding, turning his back to Yamada, and once he heard the noises of the younger one taking off the wet clothes he took the opportunity to open their bedside table drawer, pulling out the little cake he had hidden there earlier, and lighting the three candles—one for every year—deftly. He turned back around, cake in hand, to find Yamada tying the drawstring on his pajama bottoms, still unaware. When the brown haired boy turned around however, his eyes grew wide. Daiki grinned at his expression.

"Happy anniversary." He announced, and Yamada blinked at him for a moment, fingers playing with his necklace, their anniversary gifts from the year before, and he murmured

"Oh, Dai-chan..." The affection in his voice was all Daiki needed, and he held the cake up, the candles to being blown out swiftly. The cake was placed on the bedside table, and he reopened the drawer, pulling out two forks and handing one to his boyfriend, scooping some cake up and putting it in his mouth, tasting the moist, delicious confection and going in for another bite. Yamada too had a mouth full of cake, and soon half of it was gone. Daiki lost interest, instead he chose to smear icing on Yamada's neck, taking the opportunity to pull the boy close, his tongue and lips attempting to remove the icing. Once he realized what Daiki was doing Yamada swung one leg over Daiki's own, straddling him there on the bed so that they were facing each other, giving Daiki better leverage.

Daiki wrapped his arms around Yamada's bare torso, relishing the feeling of Yamada so close, his smooth skin, and Yamada let out a soft humming noise, pulling his neck away only to replace it with his lips, The kiss languid and warm, and loving, and then he trailed his own kisses down Daiki's neck, the feeling of his lips brushing against Daiki's skin sending shivers down his spine. As he moved, his nimble fingers found the buttons of Daiki's shirt, and they began unbuttoning the buttons, revealing more and more skin. Daiki froze, shocked. Yamada had never once attempted to strip Daiki of his clothes. Not that Daiki was minding. He helped with his sleeves, and pulled Yamada's lips to his own as the shirt crumpled to the bed, gently repositioning them so that Yamada was laying on the bed, Daiki on his hands over him, and he stopped the kissing for a moment, taking in Yamada's perfection.

"You're amazing." He breathed, and Yamada leaned up, wrapping his fingers in Daiki's hair, Daiki's necklace bumping him in the chest as he brought their lips together, his tongue slipping into Daiki's mouth and they didn't pull away until neither of them could breathe, both taking sharp gasps of air. Daiki let his lips reconnect with the skin of Yamada's throat, his hands finding Yamada's own and entwining their fingers. He was going to try something new. He trailed kisses down Yamada's neck, down to where he usually stopped, at his collar bone, and then he continued, going right down the center of Yamada's chest, all the way down his abs to his belly button, and down a few more inches to where his pajama pants were tied around his little waist with a drawstring. He grabbed it with his teeth, looking up at Yamada through his bangs, and he could see the love shining in Yamada's eyes, but he had stiffened up, and Daiki had to make the call. After a moment of hesitation, desire wrestling to take over, he released the string, leaving it untouched, and leaned forward to catch Yamada's lips with his own, trying to put that confidence back into him with his lips and his tongue. Yamada responded, and when they broke apart Daiki whispered

"I won't...you're not ready." Yamada's eyes were wide with emotion, and Daiki flopped on the bed next to him, resting on his side. He wrapped an arm around Yamada's waist, pulling him close.

"I love you." Yamada murmured the words before Daiki got the chance to, and he placed a tender kiss on Daiki's lips.

"Ryosuke...you—" He tried to find words for just how amazing the other boy was. Just how perfect. Just how lucky he felt to have him. Nothing came to mind. Instead he just pulled him closer, placing a gentle kiss on Yamada's forehead before pulling it to his chest, and he buried his nose in his hair, taking in the scent. There was a happy

"Good night." shared between them, before they finally drifted off into sleep, together in each other’s arms.


End file.
